


EPISODE ONE: The Ghost of Greasy's - Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying & Love The Pines

by J_COTW



Series: A Return to the Falls [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Dipcifica, F/M, Gen, Gravity Falls Oregon, Post-Gravity Falls, Returning to Gravity Falls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:48:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24253900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_COTW/pseuds/J_COTW
Summary: It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are... surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.Meanwhile, the dark, forgotten history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest, who's developed a conflict of her own - the idea of being a Northwest at all. To make things worse, the reappearance of Dipper Pines is beginning to distract her.Struggling with her own feelings, Pacifica Northwest begins to plummet into a whole new level of turmoil - a new, welcoming family and a new, comforting romance where she may well need it most.In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"
Relationships: Pacifica Northwest/Dipper Pines
Series: A Return to the Falls [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764109
Comments: 103
Kudos: 255
Collections: Dipcífica, Gravity Falls, Gravity falls





	1. But First, a Little Bit of History

****

**1883\. Gravity Falls, Oregon.**

The time? About 2PM. Maybe 2:35PM. Honestly, time is a bit difficult to track when everyone just has pocket watches. Those things aren’t hugely reliable.

The colour scheme? _Sepia._

The weirdness? _Basically off the scale, as always._

The 11:53AM Pacific North-Woodsman – a slightly less than bottom tier train - rattles through the famous floating cliffs to the trestle bridge, carrying a selection of the area’s best pillows, haybales, rubber balls and stickers, along with a couple of passenger carriages full of ne’er-do-wells.

The entire thing is being hauled by Old No.4, a battered steam engine that leaks like a sieve and whistles like a kettle. All in the care of a half asleep engineer who’s busy writing a letter to his ex-wife about how he’s approximately three hours away from retirement. The conductor is sat back drinking from a mug of molasses while reading the latest issue of Bare Ankles Monthly. He should be watching the railroad line, but nothing weird ever happens in Gravity Falls.

Apart from the odd gnome.

Or giant caterpillar.

Details, details. Nothing to write home about, unless you’re three hours away from retirement.

Suddenly, a bright flash appears ahead of the train – behind it, a portly, nervous and constantly stammering time traveller escaping time-jail and a manotaur using a piece of rail as a toothpick, who decides the train is trying to start a fight.

He prepares his fists while the time traveller watches in his usual brand of anxiety – and slight indifference.

“Oh jeez. This is my fault. I-I-I probably shouldn’t have landed here.”

The train hits the manotaur full force, plummeting from the suspiciously shaped bridge towards the centre of Gravity Falls. The explosion – followed by a rain of hay, bouncy balls and fine feather-down pillows creates a scene of extremely non-threatening – albeit chaotic – disarray. The town was also covered in stickers advertising maple syrup, which would later lead to a future mayor’s complete distaste for the sticky garnish.

 **Blendin Blandin** , Time-traveller extraordinaire, ex-wig model, and occasional competitive cross-stitch player, quickly makes himself scarce, before re-emerging as a mildly successful pocket watch repairman at 618 Gobbling Ostrich Avenue – never to speak of this ordeal, unless in a particularly difficult Vigenère code.

The town would never be the same again - as there was now the remains of a freight train jammed in the middle of it. That will generally change things. The great train crash of 1883 would never be forgotten. Mostly. Actually, it’s almost been forgotten entirely, without even having a gravestone, plaque or marker - but it’s a great story to tell the kids. Either way, you probably want to buy a postcard, right?

Only $1.50. $20 if you’re a tourist.

Years passed, and slowly the crash site became a bit of a health hazard. Tetanus reigned supreme, and some teenagers wrote disrespectful things such as ‘equal rights’ and ‘I enjoy child labour not being a thing’ on the rusting lumps of iron. At some point, it was even believed to be inhabited by a group of small men in pointy hats who chased after local women seeking a new monarch. This was vehemently denied by the town authorities. Eventually, by the year of 1960, the town’s mayor, Eustace Befufftlefumper, demanded the area be cleared, and replaced with _something tasteful_ , that created a _free rolling_ enterprise for the bustling – or at least, mildly pulsating – town.

The townspeople, lacking imagination, decided on a diner with wheels.

A flat wagon, taken from the wreck, was rolled onto a pair of rails, with every intention of using more wagon parts for the structure atop it. After all, who can afford those fancy things like bricks, or fresh timber. Do you think timber grows on trees?

They were just setting up the diner’s chassis with when Marilyn, one of the town’s biggest redwoods, was unceremoniously felled by a group of giant beavers, one of Gravity Fall’s most enduring, adorable and difficult vermin problems ( _at least since the giant rats were led away by a man playing a flute._ ) The beavers were given a minimum wage of $3 to hollow out the remaining tree trunk to provide the diner’s interior, which was later fitted out by the town’s people using whatever they could find nearby.

Before long, unhappy with the meagre wage and poor provisions, beavers decided to strike for an extra $2 per hour towards the end of construction, for which they were denied. The remaining work was done by schoolchildren, who worked for free.

The whereabouts of said beavers is now unknown.

 ** _Greasy’s House of Endless Bacon_** , later **_Greasy’s House of Finite Bacon with no Refunds_** , followed by just **_Greasy’s Diner_** after a brief legal battle ( _see Gravity Falls Gossiper Issue 6118, April 21 st, 1991_) is one of the more curious examples of Oregon architecture, being developed from a railroad flatbed, carriage seats, engine parts and the redwood’s remains. Despite suffering a rabid animal problem, draughts and the odd lawsuit due to excessive splintering, Greasy’s remains an institution for the town, its unique nature and the population’s occasional bursts of inventiveness and psychosis.

It’s unsurprising that, when two twins who saved the sleepy area of Gravity Falls came back to their spiritual home, it was the first place they went to meet their Grunkles, and kickstart another summer.


	2. A Return to the Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.
> 
> Yet, the dark history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest - and the re-appearance of Dipper Pines is providing a pretty powerful distraction, too.
> 
> In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"

****

**_It was fair to say that being 13 was, so far, a disappointment for Dipper Pines. He hadn’t magically become an adult. He had just become a bit taller, a bit more awkward and sweaty and, most of all, a lot more paranoid. His fourteenth Birthday wasn’t very far away and he was still just that nerd that people laughed at._ **

Since the events of ‘that’ ( _Mayor Cutebiker’s policy had remained in place quite successfully_ ), Dipper had become overtaken with what he had learnt and what he had seen. He had travelled Piedmont with gusto over every weekend, scribbling down in his Pine Tree journal and trying to replicate his Grunkle Ford’s experiences – trying to make his own discoveries and incredible tales. Sadly, California’s weirdness had proven as big of a disappointment as his puberty; the metaphorical biceps and facial hair he had dreamed of.

His parents had noticed, but figured it was just a phase. Every teenager goes through the crisis of having no sleep and writing incessantly about ghosts, right? That pale complexion and those deep bags under the eyes were just another sign of growing up. He was studious! A promising booksmart kid who knew where priorities lie…

Sort of. He just also had a love of the paranormal.

Mabel was still Mabel. Taller, yes, and showing a few more signs of maturity, but she still sat at the diner’s table with the spoon on her nose and a hand knitted sweater. Her braces had gone and she had made a habit of smiling even _more_ than she used to. The older, taller and more chipper Pines Twin had done a pretty good job of getting over Weirdma- ‘that’, but most of all had grown a sense of adventure and wanderlust. She now wanted to travel _everywhere_ , see _everything_ and take grainy polaroid photographs of each scene, animal, cat, pile of leaves or discarded glove she encountered. Her grappling hook had become her best friend ( _apart from Waddles_ ) and had resulted in one or two trips to the principal’s office – but her family were more impressed than worried.

She had developed a new lust for life, even if that was something Mabel had never exactly been short on.

It was clear that the trip to see their Grunkle Stan had made quite the impression on the kids. The photos seemed a bit odd, but, then, Gravity Falls was full of tourist traps and weird little bits of lore to sell merchandise. Who were Mr. and Mrs. Pines to judge if those garden gnomes were a bit weird looking, or that Summerween sculpture being a little bit too realistic? It was all good fun – kitschy tourist nonsense for kids.

When they were invited back up to the town to meet their Great Uncle after his nine month journey across the Pacific, it was obviously only fair to agree. Who could get in the way of their precious little lambs’ creativity and long-distance friendships?

They had arrived at 3PM, still feeling buslagged and carrying those typically over-laden suitcases their parents so loved to pack for them. Dipper was half asleep, while Mabel was attempting to break her world record for spoon balancing and making a hat for Waddles out of a napkin. He had been successfully smuggled onto the bus as a particularly large, shaved seeing eye dog, and she was still adjusting to having worn dark glasses for the entirety of the journey.

The diner had recognised them immediately and there was a certain level of excited chatter. Even Robbie had given them a wave, and Mabel didn’t even realise he could raise his arms like that.

It was good to be back. Just Mabel, Dipper and Waddles sat at the diner they knew so well – or, at least, well enough – awaiting for the arrival of…

“Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford!”

The two older, almost-identical men grinned as they stepped through the door to the eager teenagers, looking distinctly worse for wear. Travelling the world in a boat was not something you come out of unscathed.

Grunkle Stan had developed more of a hunch in his posture, with even less focus on shaving and a tattered Beanie hat on his head. His eyes were sunken - but they smiled. Even if he was exhausted, every inch of him seemed happier somehow. They were sure he was walking with a bit of a limp – his 8-Ball cane how being genuinely helpful, as opposed to a piece of his aesthetic.

Grunkle Ford had gained weight, and the odd wrinkle, baring even more of a resemblance to his brother than before. His hair was longer, and there was a slight fogginess in his bad eye – the one that had been subjected to Bill’s torture so many years ago. There was a clomp in his left leg that made them wonder if he had lost it to a wooden peg. Nobody bothered to ask.

The Grunkles made a show out of looking for them, prompting a series of frenzied waves from their niece and Nephew. They both chuckled by their increasing attempts to get their attention.

“It’s good to see you both.” Smiled Ford, standing with his hands in his pockets and his usual quizzical brow.

Stanley just hobbled in and immediately crouched to them - he still somewhat towered over the two. “Ah, c’mere you little schmucks, come give your grunkle a hug, huh? I didn’t sail 500 miles with this old wreck to not get a hug!”

The two ran to him, nearly bowling him over in a combination of laughter and sheer impact. They were growing up, alright. He held Dipper firmly in his shoulders, before tilting his head and wincing at the sight of Dipper’s tired, worn complexion.

“Yeesh. Puberty has hit hard, huh Kid? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

Dipper smiled weakly. “Sleep is a bit difficult since last summer, I guess.”

Grunkle Stan sighed and patted Dipper’s head – still covered with a Corduroy Lumberjack hat. “I get it, Kid. But you need to take care of yourself, right? You don’t want to come out looking like Ford one morning.”

It was now Ford who crouched - not without a grunt of exertion - and held Dipper’s shoulder reassuringly. “Mason, trust me. There’s nothing that shall ever be worse than what you’ve already encountered. He’s long gone.”

Stan flicked through his wallet as he stood back up, propping himself up on the table. “Mason? Who the hell is Mason? Come on, I’ll buy ya all some pancakes. Didn’t find much treasure but we got a little bit of pocket money together here…”

“We found treasure.” Ford interrupted.

“Na, na, we uh… spent it all.”

“You’ll get it in your inheritance. Provided I can keep Stan away from roulette tables.”

The family sat back down, following a quick subject change into the older Pines’ adventures across the ocean – with elaborate tales of myth, legend and anomaly. Mabel and Dipper tried their best to hide their amazement at Stan paying for lunch – let alone the fact he had more than a few dollar bills in his pocket. A plump wad of twenty dollar bills was a bit of an unusual sight for the Pines family.

Ford's natural flair for storytelling - still a somewhat new development - was in full flow. “You should have seen your Grunkle flirting with mermaids.”

“Oy, not my finest moment!" Chuckled Stanley, adjusting his jacket with a grin. "So, we were just outside Bermuda-”

“Berm _uda_.”

“Whatever, poindexter. So, this broad with scales comes up from the water and I say-”

Dipper vaguely listened into the conversation – and Stan’s crude references to women smelling of fish – and looked around the ever-rough and ready interior of Greasy’s Diner. The strange little place was every bit as tired and unusual as the town it belonged to.

But there was something off. A bit of a strange atmosphere. A weird… feeling that bugged and niggled. Perhaps it was just his insomnia talking, that exhaustion-fuelled paranoia.

But something was off.

For that matter, why were all of the staff apart from ‘Coffee Girl’ in the kitchen?


	3. Reform

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.
> 
> Yet, the dark history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest - and the re-appearance of Dipper Pines is providing a pretty powerful distraction, too.
> 
> In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"

****

“What are you waiting for? Take them the piiiiie!” Lazy Susan nudged the young waitress for the seventh time.

“Are you kidding? I can’t let them see me like _this_!”

Pacifica was still adjusting to having a job and working for honest money. She was also still adjusting to having grease and dirt on her clothing. And not wearing designer brands. And having to be polite to people.

And now, she had to deal with the fact that _they_ were back.

She had felt excited at first – they were about as close as she had to friends – was that unfair? She had gotten to know Candy, Grenda and Wendy fairly well. But Mabel? That girl _constantly_ stayed in contact. She had text her practically constantly over the past nine months. Mostly things that were embarrassing, dumb and comical in equal measure, along with the odd photograph of Dipper’s embarrassing taste in music and her pet pig in a new outfit.

All the same - the familiarity she had with them did little to allay, in her mind, the potential ridicule. Pacifica Northwest, once the town’s darling and the Pines’ arch enemy, was now a humble waitress. Still wealthy, sure, but with only one credit card, a samey wardrobe and one pony – working for her own allowance.

Pacifica Northwest, once bullied by her parents, now an active rebel who fought every rule they attempted to place on her.  
Pacifica Northwest, who owed far too much to the Pines twins and had given them a pink putter and a _Ghost Harassers_ box set to thank them.  
Pacifica Northwest, who had something in her rugsack she had picked up from the Oregon Parks Department for a dollar and had read it in her spare time.  
Pacifica Northwest, who knew _everything_.

She adjusted her pink waitress outfit and smoothed down the stained apron, quickly swapping out her earrings and trying to adjust her hair.

“Take them the piiieee!”

“Susan, it isn’t that simple! Look at me!”

“You’re the prettiest little waitress in Oregon, Pacifica. The only risk is them dying of cute! Now take them the piiieee!”

Pacifica sighed as Lazy Susan adjusted her collar and nudged her again. The older women clearly had no qualms about confidence, and everybody knew of her history with Stan Pines. Or was it Stanford? She wasn’t even _that_ confident in how well she knew the twins’ family. What was it with that rabble and twins?!

She stepped out, quietly and discreetly – juggling five plates of cherry pie. Was the fifth for the pig? _Seriously_?

Grunkle Stan was the first to notice her.

“Hey. Ain’t that the Northwest kid? When did she become a waitress instead of being a rich bi-“ Stanford cringed, ready to clap his hand over Stan's mouth.

Mabel, thankfully, cut him off. “Pacifica? Oh my gosh, where?!”

“Sweetie, instead of getting excited, you really should start looking behind you.”

Mabel looked in pretty much every direction before her eyes met the flustered waitress stood just behind her seat.

Pacifica froze.

Dipper peeked up over the booth too.

Pacifica’s eyes widened - hoping the two would at least be discreet about the situation. 

A bit foolish, really. Mabel had no interest in discretion. “Pacifica!! Hi! Come over here girlfraaaand!”

Pacifica sighed and tried to take a dignified stroll to the Pines table, nose in the air, eyes closed. Then she stumbled and gave it up as a bad job. “F-five plates of pie for the town’s heroes, on the house from Lazy Susan- OWF!”

Mabel immediately grabbed Pacifica into the biggest hug the Northwest Heir had ever actually experienced. The exciteful Pines twin was like a vice. “Mabel, I’m trying to work! Look, one quick hug then I’ve gotta go.”  
Pacifica didn’t just get a hug, she was hugging _back_. That was progress!

Dipper was more confused than elated. “What gives?”

The familiar eyeroll and snark was still a trademark. She might be a waitress, but she was a sassy waitress. “I’m allowed to miss my friends, dippingsauce.”

“And everybody loves a Mabelhug!” Grinned Mabel, her sweater coming close to blinding Pacifica thanks to the overabundance of sequins stitched into the sleeves.

Mason just raised an eyebrow. “And the uniform?”

“ _Obviously_ it’s my _job_ , Dipper.”

Ford couldn’t resist taking off his glasses and polishing them in his typical smug manner. “A Northwest? Making an honest living? I never thought I’d see the day. I met your father, young lady, and he was every bit as unpleasant and arrogant as he is today. Why would _your family_ ever need to _work_ like the rest of us?”

“Yeesh, Sixer, you’re about as subtle as a brick to the bank teller. Ignore him, sweetie. Good on you for doing something with your life.” Stan gave a finger gun and a wink, while elbowing Ford firmly in the ribs.

Pacifica looked down at her feet sheepishly, and swept down her apron. The shame of her heritage would never quite leave – that much she understood. Her father had _tried to make a deal_ with a post-apocalyptic geometric _demon_. And that was just what her family had done _last year_. Fair’s fair.

But she was trying, damn it. She had tried to re-establish herself, to learn how to live solo, to try and help people for a living. It might only be a few bucks an hour and it might only be a waitress job, but it was hers. She had done it. Solo. On her own initiative. She didn’t need to take this.

Dipper’s eyes were fixed on her – and she couldn’t tell if she’d gotten his attention or suspicion.

“Pacifica’s different, Uncle Ford.”

Pacifica looked away and adjusted her hair with a little smile. She sort of hoped that Dipper would say something. She _sort of_ felt like she had gotten to know him. She wasn’t _sure_ , but she _sort of_ wanted to know him a bit better.

Ford was taken aback by the sudden defensive nature of his favourite ‘student’. He was about to start a debate with Dipper, but before the discussion went a single word further, a familiar group of voices entered the little diner. It was like a full casting call; Wendy and Soos entered to familiar refrains of ‘Sup Hambone’, ‘Dipper!’ and ‘Stan Twoooo, whassup?!’

Pacifica quickly went back to her duties while the little family reunited.

“Hey, my hat!” Wendy grinned. “I hope you took good care of it, Dip.”

“O-of course I did!” He stuttered, putting down his fork.

“He hasn’t washed it since last summer.”

“ _Mabel!_ ”

Dipper tried to resist staring at Wendy, and failed miserably. The tall redhead was everything he remembered. He had sworn to forget the crush, to get over it and maybe even ask a girl out on a date back home – and had failed miserably at all of those goals. When she sat next to him and gave him a tight hug, his wide grin was all too obvious - prompting Stan to roll his eyes and look out of the window before things got too awkward.

They briefly swapped back – before Wendy snatched the Pine Tree cap again and dropped her hat back on his head with a smirk.

“I think you suit it. You can keep it.” She smiled, leaning back against the tattered booth. Typically casual; typically laid back. Typically Wendy.

“Heh… really?”

“Until I change my mind.” She winked.

Soos snapped Dipper out of what could – in his mind – have been a pretty romantic moment. “Sup P-Terodactyl bro? Mabel’s told me ya haven’t been sleeping – the Mystery Shack’s all prepped for you, Dog.”

Stan immediately perked up, whipping his head around. He had kind of missed the old place. “You better have been looking after my Shack, Soos.”

Stanford raised a finger, about to correct his brother. He was silenced by a kick under the table - with a telltale 'clonk' still arousing a bit of suspicion in his inquisitive nephew.

“Scuzzy and moneygrabbin’, just how you want it, Mr. Pines. Gimme a hug!”

“Hey, hey, back off, I- One hug, Soos. _One_.”

Hugs, high fives – it was all kicking off at the Pines table. Genuine affection from a group that really did love eachother like family.

And exceeding that, judging by Dipper’s attitude to the Corduroy girl.

Pacifica watched from behind the counter and couldn’t help but envy them. Her family had never shared feelings like that. Not properly. Sure, there was a hug, or a pat on the shoulder, but only when cameras were watching.

She had hugged Dipper twice. And she was still shocked about it. The guy was earnest. He defended her, he worked with her and he saved her – and did it for free. She didn’t have to win an award, she didn’t have to pay him – he was different.

He was weedy, a bit weird, and constantly looked tired and scruffy, but he was real, he was caring, and he was smart. Oh, no. She was not falling in love with Dipper Pines. She didn’t think about those two every day. She didn’t miss him and she didn’t regret talking to him more last year.

She just... wanted things to be different. That’s all. She wanted a Pines family. She wanted to have people genuinely pleased to see her, just like Mabel had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written during the Covid-19 Lockdown of 2020.
> 
> With huge thanks to my fiancee, Kyo, and Alex Hirsch for one of the most fascinating animated series I've ever encountered.
> 
> If you like my writing, you might (emphasis on might) enjoy my five star rated Alternate History novel, The Great London Conspiracy.  
> www.thegreatconspiracy.co.uk
> 
> I do also have a ko-fi:  
> https://ko-fi.com/jamooney
> 
> And a Deviantart-mabob:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/jamooneyart


	4. The Journal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.
> 
> Yet, the dark history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest - and the re-appearance of Dipper Pines is providing a pretty powerful distraction, too.
> 
> In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"

****

“Hey, Paz! You’re killing it today.”

“Thanks, Wendy. But it’s Pacifica.” Pacifica replied, as she brought Wendy her order and Soos his typical stack of 20 pancakes.

She had worked up a small amount of rapport with the Corduroy family through their constant visits to the diner. Pacifica figured that Manly Dan was many things, but a chef? No way.

Besides, she suspected the Corduroys had plenty of reason to hate her family most of all. She desperately wanted to fix up that bridge lest another lumberjack ghost tries to turn people into trees. She still _hated_ that nickname though.

She filled up Grunkle Stan’s cup of joe while he was there. She noticed Stan had his own cup from his pocket that was bigger than the ones in the Diner, attached to his belt with a chain. It wasn’t a bad idea. Technically against the rules, and it stank of expired apple cider, but Lazy Susan was lapse with them at best, and applied nothing to the town heroes.

She always seemed to roll her eyes when she thought of the family as heroes.

_Attitudes die hard, I guess._

Stan gave her a sincere - and surprisingly compassionate - smile. “Ay, thanks doll. Ignore my brother, alright? We appreciate it.”

“Aw man, what did you say to her, Stan Two?” Wendy gesticulated with her fork, splashing a bit of syrup onto Ford's chest.

Ford looked down at the spot on his sweater and glared. “ _Stanford_.”

“Whatever, Stan’s bro. You’re always a buzzkill.”

“I don’t even know what that _means_! I just pointed out that it’s rare her family ever-“

"Hey, Paz is nothing like her family. She’s great.”

Dipper listened intently. He was impressed. Not that it was difficult to be friends with Wendy, though. Like, it was really easy to like Wendy. Super easy.

God, he liked Wendy.

He was edging onto the brink of a daydream when Pacifica clicked her fingers to get his attention. “Dipper. Dipper! Earth to the nerd in the vest!”

“Huh?”

“I need to see you after work, okay?”

“Wha?”

The waitress rolled her eyes and broke up the sentence with her hands. “I need to see. You. After. Work. Geez, do you like, sleep?”

“But why?”

“Just meet me at 5. Think you can remember that?”

Pacifica gave a quick smile - a smile that seemed decidedly unlike Pacifica - before going back to her duties.

Dipper blinked, his tired mind trying to process. “Why would she want to see me? Something’s going on.”

“I’ll say it is, Dip!” Wendy grinned, nudging him.

“He-hey, quit it. There’s nothing like that.”

“Dude, half the town ships you, dog." Soos put in, between outsized bites. "No offence, but uh… probably somethin’ going on.”

Stan wasn’t much better at being tactful than his brother, not to mention being terrible at handling his volume.

“HA! You’ve gone from redheads to blondes, huh? You’re an animal!”

Wendy snort-laughed. At least she didn’t hold it against him. That was kind of neat.

Dipper glared at his grunkle and looked back at Pacifica, who was back to working like it was nothing.

“She is pretty cute, huh Bro-bro? You’ve got some history!” Mabel teased, prodding her brother's arm until it was practically purple.

“Mabel, how can you possibly support this? She’s been horrible to you!”

“She was just jealous of my party skills. And my golf skills. And my obvious charisma. It’s all water under the bridge! Besides, she bought us presents!”

“You forgive people way too quickly. I don’t know if I can believe she’s changed that much.”

“I thought you said she was different?” Stanford chimed in.

“Sh-she is. I just don’t know _how_ different.”

The entire Pines family were staying at the Mystery Shack, at Soos’s behest. He had kept it almost the same – a few upgrades, lots of new exhibits that he masterminded, and, most of all, had turned a damned good profit. Stan wasn’t exactly surprised, but he was a bit envious to see a safe full of cash and a pile of positive feedback forms. He was more surprised that Soos even knew how to scam people. How else could he run a business?

The rooms were all the same, too. It was like they’d never left the shack.

“Wait, where ya sleepin’, Soos?”

“Oh, we got one of those Airstream trailers out back. Abuelita has one too. All the mod cons, dog. I mean, you didn’t even have a smart TV, and the wiring was like it was from eighties. I mean this place is _super_ unsafe, dude.”

Stan blinked. “How much money are you milking from the tourists? And how can a TV be smart? None of this makes any damned sense!”

“Oh, it’s easy, Mr. Pines. Me and Melody make exhibits together and pimp them up with flame jobs, while Abuelita does the little old lady routine at the till, and says she works for tips. We even got a Question Quail and a Plaidypus as mascots.”

Stan started tearing up. Old ladies manipulating for tips? Cute animals to wrench money out of people’s pockets? Luxury brushed steel trailers with 340 channels on the TV?

“You okay, Mr. Pines?”

“It’s just so beautiful. So… so beautiful. Soos, you’ve made a surrogate father-figure proud.”

Mabel, Candy and Grenda had managed to organise a sleepover in the first ten minutes of her arriving back at the shack, and it already felt like things were… well, normal. Like they’d never left. Status Quo was king, after all.

It was Dipper who had broken the status quo. He had been forcefully preened by his sister and was now standing outside Greasy’s diner, having absolutely no idea what to think.

Pacifica walked out, exchanging the usual ‘see ya laters’ and niceties with the staff at the diner – clutching a satchel and still wearing her waitress’s attire.

“Hey, ‘Paz’.”

“Dippingsauce, It’s just Pacifica, okay?”

“Okay. It’s just Dipper. What do you want?”

“So, first off, this may sound a bit crazy but something weird is going on at the diner.“

“Crazy? Here? No! Surely the diner made of a tree is _completely_ normal!”

“Dipper.”

“Surely the _diner made from a tree with the town’s richest kid working in it_ is completely normal!”

“ _Dipper_.”

“Surely the diner made from a _tree_ in _Gravity Freakin’ Falls_ is completely ordinary!”

“ ** _Dipper_**!”

“What?”

“Shut up. Or I’ll slap you.”

Dipper laughed, but was quickly stunned into silence when Pacifica opened up her satchel and brought out a very familiar book. Red leather, with gold gilding, and a large, six fingered hand on the front, marked with the number three.

The journal. His journal – or his uncle’s journal. But his by proxy. That’s how family works, right? Like, everybody shared everything. He had written a lot of the journal too. It was basically his.

Wait. He’d written a lot in the journal.

_A lot._

“Light winter reading." Pacifica mumbled, leafing through the battered old book. "I found it at the Parks Department bake sale. Figured you’d have missed it.”

“H... how much have you read?”

“All of it. Your uncle really messed up, huh?”

“I… I don’t need it, I have my own journal.”

”Oh sure, you don’t need this. You don’t need the journal with the freaking Leprecorn in it. Or the gnomes. Or-“

“Alright alright! Give it here!” Dipper grabbed it and hugged it like an old friend. “Oh my gosh, I thought it was gone forever!”

“Dork.”

Dipper had almost forgotten the more… personal things he and Mabel had written in the pages and quickly realised the Northwest heir had read all of his musings about Wendy. All of his thoughts about the town. All of their adventures together. How ‘that’ had happened.

And she had…

_Oh no._

She had read what he had written about _her_. About her smelling nice and looking good and there being a vibe and-

No, no, she wouldn’t have paid that much attention. Why would anyone read about themselves?

...Right?

“S-s-so how much did it cost? I’ll – I’ll buy it back from you!”

“It’s yours, Dipper. I’ve already finished it. Besides, I bet there’s nothing that weird in Piedmont apart from you.”

She tapped his nose and grinned. It was a knowing, smug sort of grin. Typically Pacifica, at first glance; but knowing what exactly was in the journal? From his own hands? He was unable not to get flustered.

“S-so the diner, what’s going on?”

“I think it’s haunted.”

“Why is it always ghosts with you?”

“It was one time.”

“I think one time is more than enough for most people.”

Pacifica rolled her eyes and pulled the Journal from Dipper’s hands, opening it on Stanford’s history of Gravity Falls.

“Greasy’s is built from parts of a train crash. Did you know that?”

“O-of course I knew that.”

“Oh my gosh, you skipped it didn’t you?!”

“I- I was looking for weird things, not history!”

“Ugh. Men.”

Dipper glanced over the timeline and quickly put together what Pacifica was getting at.

Pacifica looked at her nails impatiently as she waited for him to catch up. “I’m pretty sure most places wouldn’t use pieces from a literal disaster in a building, but here? I’ve been working there for months and, lately, there’s no way there isn’t something going on.”

She sat down on the steps to the diner’s door and patted the space next to her. Dipper hesitated but did as he was told - still trying to process the fact the journal was back in front of him.

“Well, what is it you’ve noticed?”

Pacifica thought for a few moments, before promptly giving up. “I can’t explain it. It just feels wrong. Otherwordly.”

“Are you sure it isn’t just the fact you’re working?” Dipper chuckled.

“Shut up, Dipper. I don’t need jokes like that from _you_. Leave the jerkiness to your uncle.”

“Hey, I was only- Okay. Okay. Does anyone else notice?”

“Who? Lazy Susan? She’s great but she’s bonkers. Honestly, she’s who I’m worried about.”

"A Northwest? Worried about someone else?”

“Shut up. This diner is like my family, okay? This place in Lazy Susan’s life. The people here have made life ten times better since you left and I’m not willing to risk any of them to some kind of train ghost.”

“Or ghost train.”

“Whatever. I just don’t know who else I could turn to. You’re the expert in weird stuff. Or your Uncle. The… other Stan. And he’s kind of a jerk.”

“You get used to him. He’s not too different to me.”

“Well, you’re getting his nose.” smirked Pacifica, tapping Dipper’s nose for a second time.

“I am not!”

The two laughed together. Ignoring the awkwardness and talking about ghosts, everything felt simple and serene. Dipper would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy Pacifica's company. He didn't even mind the sarcasm, or the barbs, or the eye rolling.

“I think the train fell off the bridge." His friend (frenemy?) said, pointing up at the long abandoned trestle through the Gravity Cliffs. "I’ve been investigating where I can – the seats are from one of the railroad carriages. Hell, I think the fryer is made out pipes and stuff from the engine.”

“Did anyone die?”

“I mean, a _train_ fell off a _bridge_ , Dipper.”

They both went quiet.

“Mabel has been texting me since the day you left. That girl texts more than the chick with purple hair.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. She texts me sometimes when we’re in the same room.”

“Wait. You have a phone?”

“Yeah, I’ve always had a phone. Why?”

“I am going to _kill_ your sister.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written during the Covid-19 Lockdown of 2020.
> 
> With huge thanks to my fiancee, Kyo, and Alex Hirsch for one of the most fascinating animated series I've ever encountered.
> 
> If you like my writing, you might (emphasis on might) enjoy my five star rated Alternate History novel, The Great London Conspiracy.  
> www.thegreatconspiracy.co.uk
> 
> I do also have a ko-fi:  
> https://ko-fi.com/jamooney
> 
> And a Deviantart-mabob:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/jamooneyart


	5. Sleepover - with a touch of Insomnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.
> 
> Yet, the dark history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest - and the re-appearance of Dipper Pines is providing a pretty powerful distraction, too.
> 
> In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"

****

Dipper managed to convince Pacifica to come back with him to the Shack; it hadn’t been a difficult job. Pacifica herself had told him she didn’t really have to report in to her parents anymore. He sort of knew it was a lie, but he sort of wanted to spend more time together.

As friends, obviously.

Soos was practicing his DJ sets in his airstream, Grunkle Stan was half asleep in his armchair and Stanford was updating his latest Journal – No. 5. Supposedly the 4th had gone missing.

If it wasn’t for the luxury trailers, you’d be forgiven for thinking literally nothing had changed in the world of Oregon – but then, to see Dipper walking and talking with your frenemy, that was a bit odd.

“Look at them! Aren’t they cute? I swear my brother is going to **_marry rich_**. Then I’m buying that giant hamster ball. Or a buttload of candy. Either way, life is going to be great in Mabeltown.”

Mabel, Candy and Grenda were all watching Dipper and Pacifica walking together. It was all pretty innocent, but to those three, a story could be assembled from anything. No girl and boy could be walking together _without_ something going on.

“ ** _Ohmygosh, are they holding hands?!_** ” Grenda clapped excitedly.

“Na, they’re just walking.” Mabel smiled. "The _real_ scandals will probably come later."

Candy and Grenda started thumping on the window. ** _"Hey! Hold hands! Hold hands! Hold hands!_** "

Pacifica had barely stepped through the door before she was whisked up the stairs to join the sleepover. Dipper couldn’t help but be relieved. He was constantly waiting for Pacifica to bring up what he’d written. He knew he shouldn’t have used the thing as a diary.

Dipper sat at the coffee table with his Grunkle Ford and rubbed his head. He briefly wondered if he even wanted to tell him Journal 3 was back in his hands. After all, it was his uncle who had wanted to burn them.

“Hard day, sport?”

“Grunkle Ford, I think the Diner is haunted.”

“Wouldn’t be too out of the question – but I’ve been there plenty of times and I’ve never even seen a Class 1 floating around there. What would bring that out of the woodwork?”

“That’s what I don’t understand. It’s not like a big anniversary of the crash or anything.”

Grunkle Stan stood up to get himself another can, grunting as he stretched his arms and his back. “Poindexter and Dip, already back off to mysteries. Sheesh, can’t you two just spend a summer relaxing like your sister?”

Meanwhile, Mabel was jumping on the bed and laughing like a girl possessed.

It was pretty exciting having a new sleepover buddy, even if she was ridiculously confused as to what exactly one was meant to do in a sleepover.

Mabel had presented her with a pair of pyjamas with llamas all over them. Pacifica was a bit sick of the sight of llamas. Why was it always llamas?

“So when are you marrying my bro?”

“What?!" Pacifica balked, "Shut up! I totally am not! He’s a dork!”

“A dork who’s saved your butt! Twice!”

The raucous laughter from upstairs did little to stem Dipper’s anxiety. He didn’t really feel up to ghost hunting, or really up to anything. He was tired. He was burnt out. He also felt a bit sick.

He obviously wasn’t going up to the bedroom. Not with them there. Not with _her_ there. She was making him feel confused. Having a crush on Wendy is one thing, he reasoned, but he was pretty sure Pacifica had been teasing him, and he didn’t... mind it.

Stan and Stanford looked at each other with concern. Dipper really wasn’t looking well.

Stan shook him gently, waking him up for a brief moment of clarity. “Look, Dippy, maybe it’s time you grabbed some shut-eye, huh?”

“With the sleepover upstairs? No way.”

Ford looked up from his newspaper. “You could sleep in my room, Dipper. I’ve a full collection of scientific revue from 1978-“

“Oy; If that doesn’t put you to sleep nothing will!” Stan chuckled.

Dipper smiled and looked up at his uncles. They had their lives together – mostly. The whole one of them still being dead thing was maybe an exception, but other than that, they were real adventurers now. Journal 5 was practically as thick as a cinder block and was already brimming with detailed illustrations – the likes of giant squid, Krakens and Loch beasts filled its pages already and it was only up to their fourth week of exploration.

But the two were basically loners. Sure, Stan could be a bit of a swinger and was enviably charismatic, but he had dropped everything for adventure. He and his brother had gone across the world and had done so. Easily. No missing limbs, no fatigue, no nausea. Well... he thought no missing limbs. He hadn’t seen Ford taking his boots off yet, and that clomp in his step was still pretty suspect.

Regardless of all that – why was it so difficult for _him_ to take on life’s challenges? He was a teen now, dammit. He was practically an adult.

He was beginning to feel more like the isolationist Stanford, like a lone wolf – in his mind, a badass, charismatic hero who needed no other.

Did he not need Mabel anymore? Did he need anyone? Did he need friends?

He was beginning to realise that none of his friends in Gravity Falls were actually his age, and those he really liked he seemed to like a little too much. Wendy was the closest friend he had, apart from maybe Soos. And Wendy was two years older and he did _not_ just want her as a friend. Was Pacifica really a friend? She had basically given him the most personal contact he had ever had. And got his journal back.

How could she not be a friend if she did these things for him?

Did he want to be friends?

... Why did he feel weird even thinking about it? He only wanted to be friends, right?

Hell, did he really have friends back in Piedmont? He couldn’t think of people _he_ would have for sleepovers.

Wait. Did guys even have sleepovers?

Na, that was weird, right?

Stanford and Stanley looked at each other as Dipper stared off into space, stuck in his own thoughts and zoning out into the serene mountain landscape of the H-brand beer sign above his uncle’s armchair.

“I think Dipper’s having a bit of a rough time, Stanley.” Ford mumbled.

“The kid’s still in a bit of a lady crisis. Got a thing for Oregon women or somethin’.”

“The Northwest is bad news. Mark my words. _Women_ are bad news. There’s no place for a relationship when you’re an intellectual.”

“I’ve gotta take you clubbing. Or Line dancing or something. Gotta be at least _one_ dive I’m not banned from in Florida.”

“You’re banned from the entire state, Stanley.”

“Whatever." Came the simple dismissal from Stan. "The loner shtick is getting old.”

“It isn’t a shtick! It’s my LIFE, Stanley!”

“Yeah sure. Bet you’ve been with a thousand alien broads!”

Dipper hadn’t heard a thing. His mind was swimming, and with the next breath his forehead hit the table with a hollow thud. By the time the snoring had started, Stan made the executive decision to carry the kid to bed – much to the shock of the group upstairs, who were in the middle of _Fifty Different Hues of Very Dark White._

“Grunkle Sta- Dipper! Is he okay?!”

"Just tired, Pumpkin. The kid needs sleep alright? Try and keep it down. Especially you with the throat.”

Anyone could tell Dipper was a bit worn out, sure, but even he wasn’t acclimated to being carried off to bed like a six year old. It would be excellent blackmail material if Mabel didn’t feel so worried about him.

“Hey, look, girls, I don’t wanna be a party pooper." Stan said, dropping Dipper unceremoniously on his bed. "I’ll get a pizza delivered alright? Just try and keep it down huh?”

“Thanks, Grunkle, Stan. We will.”

“ ** _I’m GONNA DRAW on his FACE!_** ”

“Grenda, shhh! I’ll do the drawing. I’m cute and quiet, like a mouse.”

“ ** _I’m cute and quiet too, Candy!_** ”

Pacifica was in stitches. Stan cracked his back and walked out, leaving the four of them stood over Dipper with more than a hint of concern.

“Sheesh, Pacifica. You must have been making out a ton to get my brother to fall asleep like that.”

“Shut up!” Pacifica laughed and hit Mabel with a pillow, her cheeks flushed. “We didn’t even- Why is the nerd so tired anyway?”

"He’s been a bit down since we went home, I guess. I think he wanted to stay.”

“He doesn’t seem happy to be here now.” Pacifica mumbled, looking down at the practically comatose Dipper."

Mabel slapped Candy's poking hand away and shrugged. “He’s been ‘researching’ for like…ever. His room at home is just full of monster books and things.”

“Why does he go _looking_ for that sort of thing?”

“I like travelling and photos. I guess he likes weird animals and stuff. I’m happy to just have Waddles.”

Waddles grunted, still wearing the make up Mabel had decided to plaster all over his face and wiggling his tail. As usual, Waddles was just about the only distraction that she needed. Immediately she went back to his exploits.

“He’s a glamour model! The prettiest lil’ heartbreaker in America. Paz, you hold him and I’ll take the shots!”

“ _Pacifica_.”

“Paaaazzzz!”

The sleepover continued unabated, with teasing about Pacifica and Dipper laid on like cement. Fitting really – as Dipper slept through the lot of squealing, laughing and shouting like a brick.

Mabel was having the time of her life. She loved having a new friend, and most of all she loved seeing Pacifica act like a kid. Like one of them, not some sort of Valley Girl stereotype. She was laughing, joking and indulging in their age-inappropriate romance novels like a seasoned champ.

She was, too, thinking of her self proclaimed – if unappreciated - genius matchmaking skills. Her new friend and her bro were, in her mind, made for each other. She had always known it, _obviously_. Her bro was having trouble growing up, and she was pretty confident that love and romance was just the remedy he needed. It worked for her last summer, and she was basically now a seasoned expert and _obviously_ 100% an adult.

Imagine Dipper and Pacifica going on dates together, dancing together, _getting married_ – she could be a bridesmaid, with Waddles wearing a _little top hat_!

It was perfect. What an awesome plan. Even if neither of the two lovebirds realised it yet.


	6. Breakfast at Stanffany's.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.
> 
> Yet, the dark history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest - and the re-appearance of Dipper Pines is providing a pretty powerful distraction, too.
> 
> In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"

****

It wasn’t until nearly midday when Dipper woke up. Maybe it was being back in his spiritual home, but he was fairly sure it was the best sleep he’d ever had. He blearily looked around the room to find it almost entirely deserted – save Mabel and Pacifica looking through Dipper’s Pine Tree journal. He decided not to publicise being awake.

“So get this!" Mabel grinned, running through the book like it was a grand chronicle, "Dipper thought he’d found a ghost in our school, and he was so sure, he tried to exorcise it. He broke in one night to try and get a séance set up.”

“Whoa." Pacifica sat up. "What happened?”

"Well..." Mabel paused for dramatic effect, then shrugged. “...It ended up being the Janitor.”

The two couldn’t help laughing at the anti-climactic moment - nor at Dipper’s drawing of Mr. Runcorn, the school Janitor, looking mildly demonic. Nor Dipper’s embarrassed note taking. Nor the letter he was supposed to take home to their parents, pinned to the page and stuck together with tape.

Dipper cringed internally. Not his finest moment.

It was here that Mabel decided to start going for the big questions. “So, Paz.”

The Northwest girl sighed and smiled. “ _Pacifica_."

“Pazpazpaz. What made you get a job anyway? Is it even legal to work there?”

“Honestly? I couldn’t stand being at home anymore. Mom and Dad are still dealing with losing the mansion and only having one Butler. They uh...don’t take it very well.”

“But...aren’t you still super-rich?”

“Yeah, but like... Who cares? The Diner is a fun place to work and I just want to... fix things, I guess. I want _friends_ , Mabel. I want to feel like things aren’t like they were. Besides, I guess it’s nice to learn what money is actually worth. You start realising people are important too.”

Mabel grinned. It was exactly the answer she wanted. Either that or it all being an elaborate front for a spy mission.

“Besides..." Pacifica continued, her hands between her knees. For a moment, Mabel wondered if she'd start crying. "Like... I’ve done and said horrible things to people like you and your brother, and what do you do in return? Share with me, save me from a ghost, raise my self esteem and then save the town in like... Two weeks. What’s the point being a person with money if you feel so useless in comparison?”

“Hey, you helped out at Weirdmageddon too!”

“I didn’t do half as much as you. Or your Grunkles. And Dipper basically drops everything to help people. Even when he hated me.”

Dipper listened intently, his eyes still only half open. It was still odd to think that the Northwest family didn’t have a vice grip on the town anymore. And even stranger to think that their daughter wasn’t a vapid, arrogant person like them. There was good in her.

“I guess I just want to prove that things are different. That _I’m_ different. The people at the diner don’t treat me like anyone other than a friend. That feels _nice_. And now, I’m starting to wonder if they’re in trouble. The Diner gets weirder every day - that's why I need you and your brother. You don’t just make the world more pleasant. You help fix things.”

“Well..." Mabel thought to herself for a moment. What makes her feel better in a time like this? "...come on Paz. We’ll fix you breakfast, too.”

“ _Pacifica_!”

“Paaaaz!”

“Come back here!” Pacifica laughed, as she chased Mabel out of the room.

Dipper sat up out of bed and idly grabbed the Journal from his vest, leafing through everything his Uncle Ford had written about ghosts and hauntings. If Pacifica really did need his help, he wanted to make sure he impressed.

Even if he wasn’t sure he needed friends, it was obvious Pacifica did. That was enough for him.

It was no secret that Dipper Pines was no fan of changing his clothes. He had taken to just covering his armpits in deodorant and leaving it at that. But when he thought of who was down there... He took the time, and changed before walking downstairs. He even combed his hair. He wasn’t sure _why_ he wanted to impress her, but he was going to at least make an effort.

Soos had already started the first of the tours, leaving Grunkle Stan and Ford to cook breakfast.

Stan was indulging in his usual chit chat, once again back in his Mr. Mystery suit. It really was like they'd never left. “You wouldn’t believe it, but Soos has actually given a job to one of those creepy gnomes. That Schmebulock guy is cleaning my room!”

“You want to watch out, Stanley." Ford replied, grimly. "That one is a hoarder. Steals any family photos and heirlooms that aren’t pinned down.”

“The guy can barely say his own name, what’s the risk?”

Pacifica and Mabel were sat at the table - and immediately welcomed Dipper with... complete silence. Busy eating.

“Morning, Mabel." Dipper yawned. "Morning Paz.”

'Paz' just rolled her eyes. " _Pacifica_ , Dippingsauce."

“We have to go to the Diner tonight. I want to look for that ghost of yours.”

Ford’s ears pricked up immediately and his natural talent for eavesdropping kicked in.

Dipper pulled out a notepad and a pencil and started chewing it as he began constructing his plan. “Pacifica, can you get the keys off of Susan?”

“Keys? I think she just ties the door with some rope. Sure, I’ll call her.”

“Mabel, I want you along on this, too. Your grappling hook might be useful.”

“When is my grappling hook _not_ useful?” Grinned Mabel, patting the item attached to her skirt.

"Great." Dipper made some notes. Pacifica wondered if he was just pretending to write something down. What on earth could he be taking notes for? “We’ll meet at 8PM tonight. Got it?”

Ford kept listening, waiting for Dipper to bring him into the plan. Stan rolled his eyes and tried to ignore his brother’s child like glee at the prospect of ghost hunting with a bunch of teenagers. It’d be creepy if he didn’t know just how desperate Ford was to be a hero.

“Pacifica, you need to wear your waitress uniform. I have a feeling the plan won’t work otherwise.”

“Dipper, what _is_ the plan?”

“I... Don’t know.”

“Dork.”

“Dipper likes a lady in uniform! Duh!” Piped Mabel, before having a spoon thrown at her.

Pacifica just adjusted her hair and looked away with a little smile.

The three of them rushed through breakfast and ran out of the kitchen, leaving a shell-shocked Stanford and his far less interested brother drinking coffee, alone.

“He didn’t even ask me to help.”

“Sixer, he did this for most of the summer before you turned up. He doesn’t need you. Relax for once, huh?”

Stanford's eyes narrowed as Pacifica ran out of the room behind his great niece and nephew.


	7. The Ghost of Greasy's (At Last!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.
> 
> Yet, the dark history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest - and the re-appearance of Dipper Pines is providing a pretty powerful distraction, too.
> 
> In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"

****

“Behold! The rock that looks like a face rock!”

“Is it a face?”

“Please read the attached signage for more information about this exhibit, dog.”

Dipper, Pacifica and Mabel tagged along with Soos’s tour and loved every minute of it, even if Soos was a bit put off by having a familiar audience. Melody walked with them, listening in for the hundredth time and still finding it just as entertaining. Soos was, by all accounts, a natural at being Mr. Mystery - complete with eyepatch, suit and fez. Dipper wasn’t sure how much he actually _believed_ what he presented as exhibits, and how much he knew as being fake – the excitement and childlike wonder was pretty infectious.

Pacifica scratched her head as she looked at the picture of a horse riding another horse and the Sixpackalope. “People _pay_ to see this stuff?”

Mabel giggled. “You should have seen what it was like when Grunkle Stan was running it. I became the girl with the metal teeth for two weeks, and Dipper had to wear a wolf outfit.”

Dipper flinched. “This is _not_ the time to tell Pacifica about the wolf outfit.”

“I’ve got pictures of Dipper in the wolf outfit.” Mabel reaffirmed.

“You do _not_ have pictures of me in the wolf outfit.”

“ _So many_ pictures, Pacifica." Mabel continued, nudging the Northwest Heir with her elbow. "Like you wouldn't _believe_!”

Paz just laughed as she walked with her two friends. She was pretty dead set, now. They were friends, damn good ones, and the shack – for all of its grubbiness and general... Well, shackness, was a pretty cool place. She had never seen a real Plaidypus before.

She had always written Soos off as just the token fat one, but he really was impossible not to like. He was always helping people, if somewhat ineffectually, always telling stories and seemed to be always coming up with new nicknames for people, too. She had been called Blondie, Girl-Bro and North-Dude in the space of ten minutes, none of it with the slightest touch of ridicule or malice.

Soos may well be one of the sweetest, least hurtful people Pacifica had ever met. She was surprised, but she actually enjoyed the tour. In fact, she kind of wanted to tag along with the next one just to see what she’d missed. She knew it was all silly and ridiculous, but then... Maybe that was why she was enjoying it? It reminded her of the town and the Pines family. It felt homey and handmade.

Wendy sat back with Abuelita as the tourists flooded the gift shop, buying the latest lines of Grumpy Stan bobbleheads and pine tree caps. Turns out the Corduroy girl was pretty good at modelling them.

“Hey Dip! Hope you’re taking care of my hat. Yours is like, the latest trend or something.” Smiled Wendy, leaning back in her usual chair.

Dipper chuckled at how many people were walking out with the things. “Nobody liked them that much when I wore it.”

“Duh, you need to dye your hair red and wear some flannel!” laughed Wendy, pushing the lumberjack hat down over Dipper’s eyes. “Telling ya, my fashion sense is off the chain.”

Dipper laughed for a little bit too long, prompting a pretty vigorous noogying from the redhead.

Pacifica was occupying herself looking at the piles of tat scattered around the busy shop and wondering why on earth people would spend twenty dollars on a blatantly hand painted t-shirt... And trying to hide that little bit of annoyance she felt about Dipper being so...weird around Wendy. Why did _that_ bother her?

Stan was loving every minute, signing autographs and watching the dollars flow through the till.

It was, all in all, a pretty good start to the summer for Oregon’s trappiest tourist trap. Sales were better than ever, and with Abuelita’s old lady routine, it was pretty standard for Soos to get an extra few hundred bucks into the coffers.

“Papa Soos is buying some comic books and a hot tub!”

Melody laughed and wrapped an arm around Soos. “He really wants that hot tub.”

“Who wouldn’t want a hot tub? It’s a bath, a swimming pool and a massage all in one, Dog!”

“It was a kiddy train ride last week.”

"That was how we met, Melody. You cannot disrespect the train rides!”

Pacifica smiled. It really was liberating. No judgement, no cruelty. Just people living life without any negativity. People would call each other nerds, or joke, or poke and taunt each other... But it was out of affection.

It didn’t stifle.

For the first time for as long as she could remember, Pacifica felt like she had friends and family. No bells, no butlers, no criticism.

She was _home_. She was sure of it.

That evening, they met up outside the diner. The sun was setting, and Pacifica had run late thanks to the usual argument with her father about hanging around near the riff-raff and how it had ruined the family’s image. Ironic considering their mansion was now owned by arguably the riff-raffiest in town. Greasy’s still had the lights on – Susan had left the place lit up for Pacifica and her friends, and left the door rope untied. Dipper had thought that bit was a joke, but who was he to judge?

Mabel had already grappled herself to the top of the sign with the pretence of looking out for ghosts, and was now trying her best to throw pebbles down the back of Dipper’s neck, so far with little success, while the other two tried to work out a game plan before stepping inside.

Dipper and Pacifica peered over hastily drawn up plans for the diner together, laid on the warm summer grass and working out the best way to investigate everything they could in the quickest possible time.

“Mabel! Quit it!”

“If you can get up here to stop me, bro, you’ve got it! Mabel! Mabel! Mabel!”

Pacifica watched the whole affair in a continuing sense of bafflement and amusement. Mabel really was a bit of an oddball. Like, she knew it already – nacho earrings, much? But being so closely involved with the pair for the past day or so really gave that full Pines experience. “Does your sister like... Ever run out of energy?”

“I’m pretty sure she’s 90% sugar.”

“Because I’m so sweet!" Mabel called out from the roof. "Haaaaa!”

Pacifica tried not to laugh.

“Don’t!" Dipper said urgently, "Don’t laugh! Nothing encourages her like laughter-“

Too late. Pacifica was laughing, and Mabel was standing proud like she’d conquered a mountain. Dipper was grinning from ear to ear that the sight of the once dour, arrogant, judgemental blonde wiping tears from her eyes.

“Jeez, Pacifica, I didn’t know you could even laugh that much.”

“Shut up, Dipdop! You could do with lightening up yourself.”

“Ha! I always say that too! Go Paz!” Mabel beamed, punching the air - and nearly falling off of the sign in the process.

"Mabel, if you call me Paz one more time, I’m coming up there!”

Dipper smiled even wider. For a moment, he even considered moving closer to their new friend. She looked alright in a waitress outfit. And she still smelt like champagne and flowers. And he was sure he felt some kind of vibe...

When suddenly Pacifica grabbed his hand. “Come on, Let’s go in before your sister cramps our style.”

Dipper wasn’t expecting to be literally yanked into the Diner by someone more enthusiastic than he was. They got into taking notes and searching the place straight away – when the doors suddenly slammed shut, with the click of a non-existent lock, and the lights buzzed – before individually cutting off across the length of the room, leaving it in almost perfect darkness.

“... Pacifica?”

“I didn't touch that door, or that lightswitch, Dipper."

Mabel’s head popped up against the window. “Guys, you two better be making out in there or I’m gonna freak out!”

Pacifica tried to wrestle the door open, but it didn’t budge. Dipper tried too, but he, if anything, was weaker than the girl he was locked in with. He adjusted his hat and prepared a vain attempt at a fighting stance.

That strange feeling... That atmosphere. That unplaceable, bizarre sense of discomfort writhed in his stomach as a faint rumbling started to rattle the floorboards beneath them. Swirls of smoke and steam started to rise from the diner’s creaky old floor. It made their eyes sting and their throats dry as the building – if it could be called a building – began to shake and groan from the force of _whatever_ was happening.

The lights began to glow a sickening shade of green, casting beams through the windows and forcing Mabel to back away. The coffee machine hissed and spat scalding water, and the counter splintered and creaked as the entire place seemed to start bending and pulsating, flexing like rubber around the pair. The two backed together until their hands interlocked.

Pacifica, eyes wide, turned to her fellow investigator. “Dipper...”

“I know, I know, I’m freaking out too.” _Both from the hand holding and the ghost_ , he thought.

“No, Dipper... Look!” She shouted, pointing behind him.

A pair of glowing yellow eyes shone from the kitchen, glaring and piercing. For a moment, Dipper wondered if it could possibly be _him_ – if that hideous creature had returned to torture him and attempt Weirdmageddon once again.

Slowly, a rotund face materialised from the darkness, writhing and crawling into a soft mass of glowing, green flesh, with deep wrinkles and folds that dripped ectoplasm like sweat. A handlebar moustache that seemed to twist and tangle in on itself below a large nose, and a toothless mouth that drooled and dripped a yellow, venomous saliva that smoked and curled.

Pacifica whimpered and held Dipper so tightly he grunted, the thick, clagging smoke packing on the lining of his throat, as broad red flames started to lick from the oven inside that run down kitchen, crawling up the walls without burning or singeing a thing, wrapping behind the manifestation like a pair of glowing curtains.

The deep, gutteral laugh and glowing, yellow strands of spit that flew from the figure’s mouth made them both shudder in discomfort, the whispering voices and groans that flowed through their ears and creeped down their spines, the putrid smell of burning sulphur and that thick, choking vapour that seemed to blind and throttle them...

_**What man intrudes upon my floor?**  
What man ‘pon The wreck of Old No. 4?  
Just as our train met great hellfire  
This boy’s fate will soon be dire…_

Mabel stared from the road as the entire diner rose from its length of track, rocking and swaying as it seemed to gather a ghastly green vapour, glowing like a lantern in the darkening sky.

“Okay okay okay, I was here for grappling, not freaky diner times...” She murmured to herself, continuing to stare as the entire structure seemed to roar like the pounding wheels of a freight train. As she blinked, one moment the diner would be sitting there - and the next resembled a horrific image of wreckage, burning and smouldering like it had so long ago.

Greasy’s was haunted, alright. Dipper was pretty sure of that. And it was _freaky_. This wasn’t a normal haunting, this was _weird_. Slowly cutlery, pots and pans began to fly at him – he threw himself at the floor as they clattered against the walls.

_Clang!_

One projectile hit him.

 _Clunk_!

And another.

 _Thumpf_.

At least that one was just an oven mitt. That actually felt pretty good after the other two.

Ghosts began to manifest in the diner’s seats, each of them headless, missing limbs or looking otherwise battered and broken, floating with that familiar ghastly, green vapour and their own swirling clouds of thick, grey smoke.

The moustachio’d ghoul seemed to grow in size until he towered over the two teens stood in front of him, his harsh, piercing yellow glare seemingly staring right into the bottom of them, a judgemental gaze that seemed to pick apart and analyse every inch of their presence.

An enormous hand wrapped around Dipper and squeezed, lifting him away from Pacifica and pulling him towards the creatures staring eyes.

By now, Pacifica was getting frantic. “Dipper! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

“Pacifica...” Dipper wheezed, struggling in the monster’s grip, “Try-and-get-Mabel’s-Attention!”

She ran to the window and thumped against the glass, when, suddenly, the next windowpane along shattered.

Mabel swung in with her grappling hook and immediately snatched Dipper from the apparition’s hands, before grabbing Pacifica and pulling the pair out of the window. In all of twenty seconds, the hyperactive Pines had basically committed an action move with only her sugar intake as motivation.

Pacifica held onto Dipper tight, while trying to simultaneously hold onto any shred of calm she had left. "What do we do? What do we do?!"

“Kind of trying to breathe," Panted Dipper, "give me a moment here…”

“Right." Pacifica snapped. "But need I remind you there’s a giant demon ghost monster thing like **_right there_**?!”

The group swung across the road to safety. Mabel landed on the floor neatly and tapped her chin in a mocking impression of her brother. The two she was carrying landed on the floor with a thud, face first.

“I may not be a super adventurer like my brother," Mabel offered, "but I think the best thing to do is probably _run away_ from a giant demon ghost monster thing.”

The coffee maker suddenly flew through the broken window and shattered on the ground.

“Susan has insurance, right?”

Mabel swung off, grappling a nearby telephone pole while Dipper, finally having caught his breath, grabbed Pacifica’s hand and sprinted away from the glowing, green, pulsating structure that seemed to swing about angrily, furious at having being escaped.

The three of them sat – or, rather, collapsed together in the park and tried to process what had just happened, Pacifica and Dipper both coughing up thick clods of soot and black powder.

“So," Wheezed Dipper, "I think it can be pretty much agreed that the diner is haunted. Like… really haunted.”

“That was horrible." panted the young waitress. "What’s Susan going to do? The place has been trashed! What does the thing want?”

“Probably vengeance or something.” Dipper replied, rubbing his head. 

Mabel tapped her foot, hands on her hips, grinning triumphantly. “Excuse me, lovebirds, where’s the thank you so much for saving us Mabel? You are the best, Mabel? I’m sorry for stealing the maple syrup this morning, Mabel?”

“Thanks, Sis." Smiled Dipper. "You saved our butts back there.”

“I didn’t steal the maple syrup!” Snapped Pacifica.

They all tried to joke and laugh, but each of their voices cracked and shook like the windows of the Diner they had fled from. They had seen something they weren’t really prepared for, or were expecting. The lumberjack ghost was one thing, but there was something exceedingly sinister about the secrets of the diner.

They just sat there, watching the structure begin to peter out, before falling back to its chassis with a final, horrendous crash – glasses, plates and goodness knows what else smashing to pieces deep inside.

The diner was a mess. The kids were a mess. And worse, everybody knew that somehow - for some reason - it was their presence that had triggered the whole thing.


	8. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.
> 
> Yet, the dark history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest - and the re-appearance of Dipper Pines is providing a pretty powerful distraction, too.
> 
> In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"

****

The trio arrived back at the Mystery Shack, bruised and shaken up. Pacifica squeezed Dipper’s hand across the entire slow, hobbling walk – and even Mabel had gone quiet.

Stan stared as the three of them slowly and silently sat down. It was one thing for them to come in a little beaten up, but quietly? Not a chance. “You kids alright? What happened?”

“Greasy’s is haunted, Grunkle Stan." Sighed Dipper. "And whatever’s in there has just destroyed the place.”

Stan put down his can and leaned forward. “When ya say destroyed the place…”

“We mean like… _wrecked_." said Dipper, punching his own hand for emphasis.

“So no breakfast at Greasy’s tomorrow, huh?”

Pacifica sat separately from the twins. “We don’t know if there’ll ever be breakfast there again, Mr. Pines.” She buried her head in her hands. In only a few minutes the place she had dedicated herself to working for, the humble diner that was teaching her the value of money, where people supported her. It was gone.

It had been torn apart.

It felt like her _life_ had been torn apart. She felt bad for Lazy Susan, she felt sorry for herself and she felt awful to see Dipper looking so battered and bruised all for her stupid ghost hunt.

That thing could have _killed_ him. It was like it expressly picked up Dipper and tried to crush the life out of him. It had made no attempts on her. That was a bit odd – she was no expert, but she figured a vengeful spirit wouldn’t exactly be picky.

Dipper gingerly sat next to her. “Pacifica…”

“I’m sorry, Dipper." She replied, eyes wide. "I didn’t expect that to happen.”

“How could you expect anything to happen? Hey, that’s like no ghost I’ve seen.”

Pacifica wiped her nose and sighed. She was trying to make sure she wasn’t going to cry in front of him. It was harder than it sounded. “What are we going to do? The place is trashed. What insurance company will pay out for a freaking haunting?”

Dipper chewed his pencil. Pacifica briefly wondered if he just... had one in his pocket for chewing emergencies. “Maybe it could be a storm? Let’s be fair, Pacifica, we’re just kids – what do they think we’ll have done? We can’t lift a railroad wagon.”

“I don’t care about being blamed!" Pacifica snapped. "I care about Susan, about the staff, about Chef, about the people who eat there!”

Stanford stood in the doorway, listening to the entire conversation with scepticism and a certain amount of smug superiority. In his mind, that wouldn’t have happened with him there.

Stan glared at him from behind, knowing exactly what his twin brother was going to say.

“I’ve told you before, Dipper." Chimed in the greying, foggy-eyed scientist. "You have to know what you’re doing before going off into the unknown.”

Stan just scoffed at him. “You mean like you did with your Portal, Sixer? Don’t try and shame the kids for doing exactly what we do.”

“Stanley, they could have been killed!”

“We could have been killed twenty five damned times by now, Ford. The kid can handle himself.”

Ford wasn't a man to back down when challenged. "No. He clearly can't, Stanley. They've wrecked an entire _restaurant_ , Stanley - that isn't handling yourself. We'll go back there tomorrow. All of you. I'll see for myself what you're dealing with."

Dipper, Mabel and Pacifica looked at each other. Mabel was excited – but Dipper and Pacifica both felt far more reluctant.

“I… I don’t know if I want to go back there, Mr. Pines.” Stuttered Pacifica; already feeling anxious with the very idea.

“And why is that, Miss Northwest? Something to hide?”

Dipper slammed his hands down on the table. “Grunkle Ford, Pacifica has _nothing_ to hide! She was _great_ back there and I won’t let you keep talking to her like that!”

Things fell silent. Pacifica went back to her habit of adjusting her hair, with just a teeny little smile.

“Need I remind you, Dipper," Rebutted Grunkle Ford, "who here is the _student_ of _who_?”

By now, Dipper was getting agitated. “Need I remind _you_ , Grunkle Ford, that I managed without a so-called teacher for most of my life? Leave my friend alone! You said yourself there was no place for **_Trust No One_** in this family!”

“I will see you at the diner tomorrow night, at 8PM. That is an order, Dipper. For all of you.”

Ford left the room and slammed the door of his study, leaving the three and Grunkle Stan alone.

“You did good, kid.” Stan grinned. “Standing up for yourself like a real man. Ford is just suspicious, it’s in his nature – especially with your _girlfriend_ ’s family. He’s still got moments of being kinda black and white, y’know?”

It took Dipper a moment to realise exactly what Grunkle Stan said, but he’d already nodded in agreement. He just hoped nobody had noticed.

Mabel had _definitely_ noticed. “AW SNAP! Grunkle Stan totes just shipped you two!”

“Shut up, Mabel.” Sighed Dipper, rubbing his temples.

“Neverrr! You two are officially Grunkle approved!”

“This is _not_ the time.”

“It’s the perfect time, Dip! You just had a tense argument with Ford, smash that awkwardness away with a kiss! I’ll get the camera!”

Pacifica wasn’t really sure what was going on, at this point. She was still feeling panicked by the ghost, by the fact one of her favourite places in the world was destroyed, by the fact she’d just risked Dipper’s _life._

And the way people just spoke about them like they were a couple – the way Mabel seemed to keep shoving them together. It was embarrassing but she didn’t… _dislike_ it. She knew Dipper liked her. At least… she thought she knew.

Mabel ran upstairs to 'get the camera’ and never came back down. Even Stan excused himself.

It ended up just being Dipper and Pacifica, still shaken up, still bruised and still panicked.

At a loss of what to do next.

Dipper broke the silence first. “Do you want to go home tonight?”

“N-no. I think I’d rather stay here.”

“Look, I’m sorry about Uncle Ford...”

“It’s fine, Dipper. I’m still sorry about _everything_. I _know_ it’s difficult to believe things are different, but I promise you. I’m not the same Pacifica. I’m trying not to be.”

“I know. And I think Mabel knows, too.”

They both went quiet again.

“For what it’s worth, Dipper," Pacifica mumbled, "I think you looked pretty good in a suit, too.”

Dipper squirmed uncomfortably. “Oh. You uh… you read that, huh?”

“I read _everything_ in that journal.”

More awkward silence.

“You and your sister must be the bravest people I know.” She added. 

“Heh. You’ve been pretty brave too.”

“Then why am I still so scared?"

“You think we don’t get scared? It’s just a case of fighting past it, Pacifica. No different to that night in your mansi- what used to be your mansion.”

“You’re sweet.”

Dipper grinned. He was sweet? He quite liked the idea of being sweet. What was the normal response to a girl calling you sweet? Was he getting sweaty again? Why did he feel so damned awkward and why couldn’t he stop smiling? He knew the feeling – he’d been through it with Wendy. But this felt different. This time he was being called _sweet_.

_Sweet_!

“Heh. Well, y-you’re sweet too.”

“Shall we get ready for sleep? I mean, your Uncle does expect us to do the whole thing again.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Pacifica offered her hand to Dipper and gave a warm smile. It was shy. It was innocent. For practically the first time in her life, she didn’t seem like she was superior. She seemed scared, nervous and truly… human.

“We should keep together more often, Dipper. I think we do pretty good together.”

“M-me too, Paz.”

“ _Pacifica_.”

“Whatever.”

Dipper took her hand and they went upstairs, eager to forget the night’s ordeal, where Mabel was already fast asleep – with the Polaroid camera in her hands. Seems her evening sugar crash had happened at its usual inopportune time. He set up a bed on the floor, leaving his own bed open for Pacifica to get some rest.

“Dipper?” Pacifica mumbled, her eyes cast to the floor.

“Yeah?”

“Can I...get a hug?”

“...Yeah.”

It was the most awkward, weird hug that either of them had ever had. No paying to pretend it didn’t happen, no nice-guy compliments. They just… needed a hug, if only for a moment.

Mabel watched silently with a single, half open eye and tried her damnedest not to squeal in excitement as they split back up and went back to sleep.

She just whispered one thing to herself.

“ _Jackpot_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written during the Covid-19 Lockdown of 2020.
> 
> With huge thanks to my fiancee, Kyo, and Alex Hirsch for one of the most fascinating animated series I've ever encountered.
> 
> If you like my writing, you might (emphasis on might) enjoy my five star rated Alternate History novel, The Great London Conspiracy.  
> www.thegreatconspiracy.co.uk
> 
> I do also have a ko-fi:  
> https://ko-fi.com/jamooney
> 
> And a Deviantart-mabob:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/jamooneyart


	9. On The Lam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.
> 
> Yet, the dark history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest - and the re-appearance of Dipper Pines is providing a pretty powerful distraction, too.
> 
> In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"

****

The next morning saw Grunkle Ford preparing all manner of equipment for his ghost hunt with the kids, stacking up piles of gizmos and gadgets to prepare himself to save the day.

The kids were watching the television coverage of the now ruined diner. Not a word had been said between them apart from hollow ‘good mornings’ and the like, but they knew Mabel was well aware things were happening.

Mostly as she beamed every time either one of them glanced at her.

The news programmes focused on the wrecked, derailed and beaten-up restaurant in lurid detail, describing the amount of damage and how Mayor Cutebiker had already marked the event as a civic tragedy. Manly Dan was briefly seen crying on the sidewalk, with Wendy consoling him like a mother with a kid that had fallen off his bike.

Pacifica glared a little as Dipper watched Wendy on television. She was beginning to feel a tiny bit twitchy about these things.

Dipper began thinking and chewing a pencil while the three of them ate breakfast. The case was bothering him, and it wasn’t just because he was calling it a case. “Have you noticed that the ghost specifically went after me? And mostly rhymed about men?”

Pacifica scoffed. “I dunno, Dipper, I was a little busy being distracted by the ghost being terrifying rather than listening to his poetry.”

“Pacifica, I’m being serious. Why would a ghost out for revenge specifically target men, or only go after me instead of you?”

Pacifica desperately wanted to say that was exactly what she’d been thinking. But then what? Look like a nerd? Look as goofy and obsessed as Dipper did? She just kept quiet with her usual level of snark and eyeroll. It was just that lately she _smiled_ when she did it.

Mabel was adding Maple Syrup to her cereal. “So you think the ghost hates boys? I mean, duhh, everyone knows girls are better, but why would a boy ghost hate boys?”

“I suppose ghosts can kinda believe what they want, Mabel." Dipper retorted. "I’ve just never heard of it before. The lumberjack went for everyone, not just the Northwests.”

Pacifica still felt a shiver down her back every time _he_ was mentioned. “Dippingsauce, can you _please_ stop bringing that guy up? Like, I’m right here.”

“Sorry. But it’s weird. Something stinks.”

Mabel was now adding plastic dinosaurs to her cereal. “Probably just your underwear, bro. Pacifica, he like, never changes his underwear.”

“I’m _practical_ , Mabel.”

Pacifica laughed – but only for a moment. She stirred the cup of, frankly, dreadful coffee that Stan had made her and looked out of the window. She was still a bit at a loss, still reeling from seeing the diner wrecked, still feeling guilty and, frankly, feeling scared. She didn’t even really like coffee. It had just kinda... become a habit when working at the diner. Who serves pitch black coffee to a thirteen year old?

It was then that a large, equally pitch black Rolls Royce glided into the Mystery Shack’s parking lot. Her eyes widened.

“Oh no...”

Preston Northwest was beginning to lose patience with his daughter. He was still bitter and angry after the loss of his business and fortune, and for the past few months his obedient, successful little princess had been chasing her own whims and making an embarrassment of the family name.

Living her own life, when he was the one that paid for it. He was the one that raised her. He was the one who kept that family together. He was the one that made sure she won those trophies.

And for what? His daughter to text friends who _weren’t even upper-middle class_?

His daughter to get a _commoner’s_ job at some kind of _Greasy Spoon_?

His daughter, his flesh and blood, mixing with the backwards hicks of Gravity Falls and _enjoying it_?

He furiously gripped the bell in his pocket, ruminating over how, exactly, he was planning to punish the little brat who dared bring down his family’s name. Who dared to act like she was different.

Who _dared_ to pretend she wasn’t a **Northwest**.

He started hammering on the door while the kids scrambled out of the other exit.

“Open this door. Open it, I say!”

It was, unfortunately for Preston, Soos who opened the door.

“Welcome to our shack of myster- Oh hey, Mister Northwest!" Grinned the new Mr. Mystery. "I’m a huge fan, dude. I have like, all of your merchandise and at least two boxes of mudflaps. Hey, that’s a funny word. ‘mudflap.’ Come in, dude, can I shake your hand?”

Preston twitched and recoiled as Soos tried to grab his perfectly groomed shaking hand. “Unhand me, you strange... Mole person! Where is my _daughter_?”

“Pacifica? Dude, I dunno. She was on the tour yesterday, dog. Figured she’d gone home. Do you want me to make some Missing posters?”

“I will search this wretched place from ceiling to floor!”

“Hey, that’s great, dude – follow me. Welcome to a world of mystery – hey, Melody, get Mr. Northwest some bumper stickers, he’s got like, a really big car!"

Dipper, Mabel and Pacifica grinned as Preston Northwest began his first ever tour of Oregon’s shackiest shack, and made a beeline for town, sprinting down the country road like their lives depended on it. Pacifica almost wondered if her life _did_ depend on it.

“Hey, where’s the fire, Dip?” Wendy leaned out of the Mystery Cart with her usual complete lack of urgency as she drove towards the shack, having replenished that all important snack supply.

“Wendy! Wendy, you won't believe this, but Preston is at the Mystery Shack!” Panted Dipper.

“Cool, dude. That’ll make Soos’s day.”

Mabel pointed at Pacifica and gave a triumphant little dance, as if the getaway was entirely her idea. “And we’ve kidnapped his daughter! Our life of crime begins! Mabel, super secret villain, crime one! Apart from the other crimes.”

Wendy smirked. “On the lam, huh? I’m down. Where we headed? I’ve been trying to get this thing to do drifting, but it’s still got gas.”

The two twins rushed into the cart. Pacifica hesitated.

“Come on, Paz, it’ll be fun!” Mabel beamed, still enjoying the entire ordeal perhaps a little bit too much.

“Do you really think my Dad will say its a kidnapping? I don’t want to get you all in more trouble. The diner was bad enough...”

“You three wrecked the diner?" Wendy blinked. "...Bummer. Hey, look, I dunno about you, but if this is a kidnapping it’s probably best not to get caught. Get in.”

If Mabel was treating it too much like a big adventure, Dipper was treating it just a little bit too seriously. “We just have to burn enough time ‘til tonight, Wendy. Any ideas?”

“I mean, Paz is the one who knows her old man, Dip. I’m just the getaway driver. You come up with the ideas, I step on it and try and get some airtime. Buckle up!”

The kids fastened their seat belts as the Mystery Cart shot off - in a sense. Being a golf cart.

It was easy for Mabel to think it was just a bit of fun. She didn’t have a thing at stake other than wanting her new best friend to lighten up a bit ( _and to marry her brother, but that could take a few weeks._ )

For Dipper and Pacifica, though, it all felt like very real stakes. Pacifica held onto Dipper’s hand tightly – no matter how clammy it was getting or how nervous it was obviously making him.

She wasn’t scared of many things, but her Dad was more than scary enough when he got angry. He was reckless. It wasn’t just a case of getting away, it was trying to stop him punishing her for the rest of her natural life. The Northwests were known for doing terrible things to innocent people they barely knew. What would they do to their own flesh and blood?

What sort of morality could possibly be found in a man who owned framed paintings of the horrible things his family had done?

Wendy suggested the lake would be a decent hiding spot. Pacifica wasn’t exactly the lake sort since her family had to sell their boat - why would Preston expect her to hide out there? Besides, they could chill out by the water for a bit and pretend things weren’t going to hell.

And she had snacks.

Alright, she didn’t really get the big deal about what was happening, but she wanted to find out. She’d missed going off on wild adventures with Dipper and Mabel; the town rich kid was just a cool extra component.

Plus, she figured that it meant Dipper was finally getting over _her_. She could finally just be friends with the kid. That would be neat.

The four of them sat on the grass together, with Wendy pulling out what seemed to be an endless supply of chips and soda from the cooler she had in the back. They were soon recounting the story of what had actually happened at Greasy’s.

“So your sis saved your butts, huh?” Wendy laughed, high fiving Mabel. "Girl power."

Mabel beamed. “I always save Dipper’s butt!”

“I could believe it. And now Paz is on the run from her old man? What’s the deal?”

Mabel was busy giving herself a duck’s beak with two chips while Pacifica recounted how much her father hated the diner, hated her getting a job, hated her being friends with normal people and, seemingly most of all, hated Dipper for starting the entire change.

Wendy had never really heard of a Dad not wanting their kid to get a job, but that wasn’t the only thing that shook her up. “Wait, back up – a bell? Pacifica, have your parents ever actually been parents? Like, do they ever actually hugged you or told you they’re proud of you? Like... How bad does life in that house get?”

Paz just went quiet. The others went silent too. Mabel dropped her duck beak. This was no time for her ducktective impression.

This time, Wendy took on a far more serious tone. “Seriously? You need to get out of there, man. Hell, you can stay at my place. Have the Corduroys make you breakfast for once. If you aren’t just hooking up with Dip.” Dipper tried to interrupt, but Wendy continued, holding a hand up to silence him. “You could do worse, Dipper. Paz makes _great_ coffee."

Wendy winked and nudged Pacifica - but fell back to her serious tone. "Look, Pacifica, I didn’t know things were like... that bad. I get it’s hard, but sometimes you just gotta bail. You know most of the town would be happy to look after you.”

The Northwest heir stared out across the lake. It was peaceful - blissful, even. Life in a mansion was good, but _this_? “I haven’t not thought of it, Wendy. But...”

“Dude, I get it, people in this town are crazy. But they’re good people. They aren’t monsters." There was a pause as Wendy furrowed her brow. "I mean, there are monsters, but the people aren’t.”

Pacifica looked up at the lanky redhead and squirmed before clamping onto her in a tight hug. Wendy just chuckled before Dipper and Mabel joined in. A bona-fide group hug. It was warm, it was safe, and it was hers.

Friends? Family?

Did it matter who the people were?

They were people she liked. People she loved.

And she still owed it to Dipper Pines. Whose eyes still seemed hopelessly glued to her.


	10. Conspiracy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.
> 
> Yet, the dark history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest - and the re-appearance of Dipper Pines is providing a pretty powerful distraction, too.
> 
> In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"

****

The evening came quickly.

Ford tapped his foot eagerly outside the wreck of the diner, impatiently waiting for his protégé and his friends to arrive while looking at his monitoring equipment. Had he been harsh to them? Certainly. But he was well aware of the risks they were meddling with, and he didn’t trust the Northwest family to play fair. The town had been under their spell for too long, and he had no intentions of letting their daughter manipulate Dipper into some sort of twisted distraction.

He knew there was something going on with this ghost suddenly popping up while they were in town, and he wasn’t willing to let his family come afoul of it. His brother and the kids may not see it, but it’ll take a tough cookie to pull one over the eyes of Stanford Pines. Perhaps he had been a _bit_ over sensitive when Dipper challenged him, but he _knew_ the boy. He wouldn’t stand up to Stanford unless something deeper was going on.

Love? No. His student was confused. There was no place for it. The Wendy nonsense was enough, and a Northwest had no place in his family.

When the three of them turned up in the beaten up golf cart that Stanley had so insisted on keeping, he was willing to play the nice guy and see how things went down.

“I want us all together, kids," He began. "And you to do nothing different to the previous night. Do I make myself clear?”

Pacifica and Dipper both quietly, reluctantly agreed.

“Sure thing Captain Ford! Mabel away!” grinned the hyperactive twin as she took her grappling hook and flew to the top of the building.

Stanford raised an eyebrow and looked at Dipper.

“Yup, that’s what she was doing, Uncle Ford.”

“Fine. Let’s move.”

The three of them slipped under the police tape – not that Blubs and Durland were likely to police anything – and through the hanging door that led into the diner, with Ford behind them, eyes roaming over the LCD screens that made up his area scanner.

Pacifica grimaced at the sight of the place and almost felt compelled to try and clear up what she could. Had working in the place really hammered that into her so much? For a moment she was surprised how natural that inclination felt. Broken tables and windows, smashed crockery, even the manliness tester – everything was scattered and thrown about the diner, making it feel like it had been abandoned long ago.

Pacifica briefly realised she hadn’t even tried to contact Lazy Susan. How must she feel, seeing the place like this?

**_SLAM!_ **

The door shut, suddenly no longer hanging - and now snug in the frame.

Stanford didn’t jump in the least, while Dipper clutched his chest like a man forty years his senior. Pacifica would have found it hilarious if she wasn’t scared of what was about to happen - again.

Smoke began to rise, and, almost on command, the creature – the ghost, the demon, whatever – materialised. Those wrinkles and folds writhing into a mass of glowing, green flesh that glared and pierced, those flames licking up the wall aggressively, the atmosphere becoming thick and choking.

Stanford watched, bedecked in a pair of infrared goggles, with zero concern or conviction. He analysed every motion, every strand of hair, every fold in the crawling, gelatinous mass that made up this spook – this odd spectre that seemed so unlike what they had encountered in the past.

“Identify yourself!” Ford shouted.

Pacifica looked at Dipper and whispered. “Does he really think it’ll answer him?”

“You’re always meant to start by making contact.” Dipper replied.

“That’s crazy!”

“Pacifica, Let’s face it, we’ve seen crazier. Just let him do his-“

The creature swung out and whacked Ford across the chest, sending him reeling against one of the wrecked tables with a loud crash, bellowing a bone chilling, guttural laugh that vibrated and shook the ground beneath them.

“... Yeah, okay, that was crazy.”

“Dipper!" Ford called out, trying to stand back up - before having his legs swept out from under him once again. "Get the mirror, for Pete’s sake!”

Dipper hesitated. He knew from past experience the mirror technique was hardly perfect.

“At least we might be able to communicate with it for a moment, Dipper. They’re in my backpack - for goodness’ sake, just grab one!”

A frying pan flew over Dipper’s head and smashed through another of the windows, missing the lumberjack hat by millimetres. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was targeting him or Ford. It was when the next projectile - a large soup pot – slammed against the back of his head that he realised this was an undiscriminating attack against them both. Once again, the ghost was targeting the men in the diner.

Mabel watched from the window, and in a split second realised that her family needed her help. Nobody messes with her bro except her! It was time to use tactics nobody would expect from her.

_She needed to be quiet._

Pacifica had backed against the wall, staring as the ghost thrashed wildly against those disturbing it, arming itself with all manner of pots, pans and tools against everyone in the diner except her. She didn’t know what to do; she wasn’t some kind of wild adventurer! What could she do? What could she be expected to do?

She was scared! She was scared out of her wits!

This time, the creature grabbed Dipper’s torso and squeezed, wrenching him off of the floor and wrapping its tendril like fingers around his ribcage.

Dipper groaned and struggled, trying his hardest to break free of the ectoplasmic mess that gripped and writhed around him, squeezing the air out of him. “P-P-Pacifica! Throw a mirror to me!”

She wanted to. She desperately wanted to. But she felt paralysed with fear. “I-I-I-“

Ford snarled. “Now, Northwest! **_Now_**!”

It was then that Mabel tapped his shoulder, gripping a mirror in her hand. Ford raised his eyebrows in surprise. Mabel Pines was, once again, ready to save the day - while Pacifica – that useless, _manipulative_ Northwest girl, stood against the wall and did nothing, with the creature barely casting an eye on her.

Ford’s brain sped along the few possibilities he could muster up, before he made a rather harsh decision. He picked up picked a salt shaker and aimed, before throwing it as hard as he could. At Pacifica Northwest.

Pacifica squealed – Dipper shouted – and the ghoul suddenly dropped the Pines twin to the floor, grabbing the shaker a mere millisecond before it hit Pacifica square in the face.

That was the proof he needed. He glared straight into the eyes of the girl. He had her worked out, now. There was more to this, and he had all of the proof he needed.

That was all the distraction Mabel needed, too. She ran out and held the mirror aloft like a magic sword.

“Hey ugly! Take a look at your complexion before I beat it black and blue!”

The Ghoul roared, shouted and screamed in protest – but the power of the silver mirror was too great. Within moments it was trapped.

“Booyah! I have the power!”

Mabel shook the mirror and grinned.

“I’m gonna keep him as a pet.”

Dipper, now having had his second beating in the past couple of days, stood up uneasily, rubbing his aching head. It took him a moment to collect his senses – and his first instinct was to shield Pacifica from his Grunkle.

“What were you thinking, Grunkle Ford? You could have taken her eye out!”

Ford stared, darkly, standing over the two of them. “Get away from her, Dipper. This is her doing.”

Pacifica stared, wide eyed. “I- I didn’t – I’ve not done anything!”

The Grunkle grabbed the mirror from Mabel’s hands and hobbled towards her, furiously.

“Then explain why this ghost is targeting everybody but you.”

He thrust the mirror to Pacifica’s face.

“Explain why he turns up the moment we arrive back in Gravity Falls. Explain why this spectre decided to **_protect you_** before he protected his domain!”

Dipper blinked.

Mabel stared.

Pacifica was speechless.

“And how _convenient_ that Dipper gets Journal 3 back. From you, I take it? How _convenient_ you haven’t given him the other two. How _convenient_ it was you that decided to get Dipper involved. How _convenient_ that it involves your workplace, where you find yourself acting like what your family hates most. **_The poor_**.

"You put my family in harm’s way. You manipulated them into caring about you. But deep down, young lady, you’ll only ever be a Northwest. The same as your father – as his father, and those before him.”

Dipper clutched his head. He was a neurotic, conspiracy-obsessed weirdo, but he wasn’t irrational. He knew for a fact that Pacifica was hardly the sort to come up with an elaborate revenge plot.

“Grunkle Ford, that isn’t – that can’t be true.”

“Then explain, Dipper! Teach the tutor, go ahead!”

“I can’t explain it, but I know Pacifica.”

“And I know the Northwests, better than you ever will.”

Pacifica looked up at Ford, tears in her eyes, backed against the wall.

Without another word, she ran out of the diner.

Being friends obviously hadn’t worked.

Removing herself from her family hadn’t worked.

It was time to go home and forget she ever tried.


	11. Less-Than Precious Family Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.
> 
> Yet, the dark history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest - and the re-appearance of Dipper Pines is providing a pretty powerful distraction, too.
> 
> In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"

****

**_Preston Northwest arrived at his home about 9PM that evening, his car festooned in numerous bumper stickers, with a Mr. Mystery bobble head and a stuffed Plaidypus on the dashboard._ **

Soos had made quite the distraction for the man, and he had almost forgotten about his quest to get his daughter back under control. When he arrived back at the house to see Priscilla halfway through her second bottle of the evening, he knew that it was time for _him_ to become the good guy.

He was a damned _good_ parent. What harm had Pacifica ever come to under his watch?

He straightened his tie, took off his new Mystery Shack cap (hiding it under one of the many fur coats) and walked upstairs.

Pacifica was crying. Face down in a pillow.

“Pumpkin?”

“Go away, Dad.”

Preston twitched. “Pacifica, that’s no way to talk to your father. What’s the matter?”

“Everything’s gone wrong, Dad. My friends don’t trust me, the Diner is ruined, I’ve lost my job and everything sucks.”

“Typical behaviour from the people in that town, princess. Don’t let it get you down.”

His daughter sat up and glared at him through red, tear-strained eyes. “I thought I had people that cared about me. Dad, you don’t know how amazing these past few days have been! I was doing something that mattered!”

“No, Pacifica. You were doing the _opposite_. You were being _fooled_ into thinking these things mattered. What does it matter if people get pancakes and cups of cheap coffee? Your waitress job is just another piece of this strange… rebellion you’ve gotten into.”

“It isn’t a rebellion, Dad. It’s a new life! I don’t want to just be a…a town rich kid anymore.”

“Pumpkin, You’re a Northwest! People look up to us, respect us, and most importantly _fear us_. Just as they should. We’re powerful.”

“I think I’d prefer to be _liked_ by people.”

Preston idly fondled his moustache as he ruminated on the matter. “For what it’s worth, dear, I’d rather you be home with us; the people that look after you. We provide you with everything, Pacifica. Do you not think it’s a bit selfish to start looking for your own life among the… well, the peasantry?”

Pacifica went quiet.

“It’s just as well we’re here to look after you.” Her father continued. “Look at what those horrid people have done to you. I knew those Pines twins were going to be trouble.”

“They aren’t trouble. They’re my friends.” Muttered Pacifica.

Preston’s brow furrowed. He was trying not to get angry with the blatant _attitude_ his daughter was giving him. “They _are_ trouble. They have been since last summer, and they will be this summer. Of course they’d drag you into some ghost nonsense. They’re riff-raff, putting themselves in harm’s way. Your life here is safe, Pacifica. It’s comfortable. That’s why you’re home schooled, it’s why you’re sleeping in silk sheets and it’s why you’ve still got a pony. Why would you want to _work_?”

“Dad…I didn’t mention a ghost.”

“Yes, well, I made the assumption it was a ghost. I mean, anyone could guess that diner had ghosts, it’s such a- squalid little place!” Preston stood up and dusted off his shoulder.

“…Dad…”

“Enough nonsense. I don’t want to see you back there again. And I don’t want those Pines anywhere near you. Do I make myself clear? I’ll never let harm come to you, Pumpkin. Your friends could be another matter.”

Pacifica opened her mouth to speak – only for her father to silence her with a single hand and a dark look. “Don’t leave your room tonight. Get it out of your mind.” Preston turned his back to his daughter – but wordlessly brought out that familiar, fine, mahogany and brass bell. “I’ve given you more than enough lenience, Pacifica. I’ll do what I need to.”

Pacifica stared, her mouth agape, as her father shut the door and locked it. Almost in the blink of an eye, she started work trying to pry open the window, tying together her (four, luxurious Egyptian silk and fine down) duvets. Surely not. Her dad was bad, but _that bad?_

Preston wiped his forehead with a prime cotton handkerchief as he walked down the stairs, sighing from the sheer exertion of being a good, responsible parent.

Priscilla looked up at her husband, her eyes slightly bleary. “Does she suspect anything?”

“No.” Preston replied, firmly, barely looking at her. “A few bruises and tears, but she’ll get over it. I’d guess that the Pines have beaten the ghost, but the job is done. No more diner, no more friends.”

Pacifica jumped the short distance from her duvet to the floor, and crept along her houses facade until she was crouched below the parlour’s outsized windows.

Her parents, none the wiser, continued their discussion – and, to Pacifica’s horror, her father picked up a dark, red leather book – with brass metal plating and a six fingered hand.

“I do wonder if we’re doing the right thing, Dear.” Priscilla mumbled. “Her job did bring in some money, and all of this... Supernatural stuff can’t be good for our image.”

“A Northwest working at a Diner? No. I won’t allow it. She can earn it with her pageants.” Preston splashed some of his liquor into the fire accidentally, his hands animating as he tried to express his sheer frustration with his offspring. “The things she says to me, the idea of running off to do her own thing with the lower classes… it’s not natural, Priscilla. She had dirt on her shoes. _Dirt on her shoes_!”

Priscilla shook her head in dismay and took hold of another bottle. She had to concede. It was all too much.

“I’d happily conjure a thousand ghosts to keep that girl under this roof.” Preston sighed, looking into his glass. “That girl doesn’t realise what we _spend_ to keep her happy.”

The two of them sat together in front of the fire, wondering where they could have possibly gone wrong with their once obedient, pageant winning daughter – unaware that she was already running off to that wretched shack.

Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written during the Covid-19 Lockdown of 2020.
> 
> With huge thanks to my fiancee, Kyo, and Alex Hirsch for one of the most fascinating animated series I've ever encountered.
> 
> If you like my writing, you might (emphasis on might) enjoy my five star rated Alternate History novel, The Great London Conspiracy.  
> www.thegreatconspiracy.co.uk
> 
> I do also have a ko-fi:  
> https://ko-fi.com/jamooney
> 
> And a Deviantart-mabob:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/jamooneyart


	12. Return to the Shack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.
> 
> Yet, the dark history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest - and the re-appearance of Dipper Pines is providing a pretty powerful distraction, too.
> 
> In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"

Dipper sat on the edge of his bed, with his head firmly in his hands. “Do you think she’s going to be okay?”

Mabel was sat next to him. “Dipper, she’s Pacifica Northwest. She’s tough. She’ll get over it.”

“I don’t trust her parents. I don’t think she’s safe going back home. What if they hear about what’s happened?”

“You think she’s more safe fighting ghosts...?”

“I think she’s more safe with us.” Dipper snapped.

Mabel kicked her feet and thought to herself. “Y’know, you don’t have to protect Pacifica, Dip.”

“I know she can look after herself. I just-“

“…You just want to be there to do it, huh?” Mabel smiled.

Dipper went red. “Mabel, don’t, this is serious.”

“Hey, I’m not teasing. I’m being serious.” She replied, in a slightly softer tone. “There’s _nothing_ wrong with liking somebody, Dipper.”

“I’m not even sure if I do.”

“Duhhh. That’s the point, the uncertainty! The tension! The dramaaaa!” She continued, throwing out her arms for emphasis.

“ _Now_ you’re not being serious.”

“Eh, it comes and goes. But honestly, I think she likes you too.”

Dipper considered it and looked at the floor. “Really?”

“Definitely. She looks at you a lot, bro. This summer is your romantic one, huh?”

“Ew, I hope not. What would that be for me? Norma and Mermanda?”

“Hey, Mermando would have been a _beautiful_ woman! It could be worse, it could be Gideonsy ...Gidanna? ...Giddette?”

“...Isn’t Gideon already a girl’s name?”

"Wooaaah. My mind is blown."

The two laughed and shared an awkward sibling hug. With an extra pat on the back for good measure. Both weren’t lost on how crazy it was to be talking about Pacifica Northwest as if she was a human, let alone a friend – let alone Dipper’s second ever crush. A crush that isn’t too old for him or uninterested, this time. One that liked him back. That was pretty new territory for only three days into their second-ever Gravity Falls summer. It was for this reason that Dipper felt more scared than he did at the prospective end of the world. In fact, he was terrified.

Being a teenager wasn't what it was cracked up to be. It was nerve-wracking. His stomach was leaping, his head hurt, his back hurt...and he still didn't feel _smarter_. He felt _clueless_.

_Tap._

_Tap._

_Tap._

“Can you hear something?”

“Probably just a rat stuck in the walls again.”

_Tap **.**_

**_Tap._ **

**_Tap tap tap tap tap._ **

**_SMASH!_**

Dipper blinked. “Nope, okay, that was a brick.”

“Cool! I’m going to paint it pink and throw it back!”

“Do you think Grunkle Stan owes the mob money again?”

There was a pause as the two looked at the brick, as if waiting for it to do something.

“Oh my god, will you two just come to the window already?!” Pacifica shouted from outside.

Dipper peaked through the broken window. “Pacifica?”

“Who else would it be?” She retorted. “Bill Cipher?”

Dipper hastily discarded the golf club he had armed himself with. “Well, I mean…”

“Just come down, Dipper, you absolute dork! And Mabel, too!”

At this time, it was practically a given that Ford would be in his study or laboratory rather than anywhere he could catch the kids, especially when he had a ghost to occupy him. They snuck downstairs all the same, however, on tip toes, speaking in hushed voices - and, as the floorboard in the hallway gave the slightest creak...

“Where ya going, Slick?” Came a gruff voice from the living room.

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper jumped. “Oh – uh – nowhere.”

“Off to the Blonde, huh? Mabel, keep him in check.”

“You aren’t going to stop us?”

“Na. Ford is off his gourd if he thinks that kid is a supervillain. Be careful, right? Your parents still expect us to look after you.”

Mabel grinned and gave her grunkle a big cuddle. “You are the _best_ , Grunkle Stan!”

“I already know, Pumpkin. Now go make sure your brother doesn’t screw up.”

_Pacifica and Dipper ran to eachother, and without a thought, locked themselves into a hug. Dipper held her tightly, swinging her in a circle before preparing to kiss h-_

“Dipper. Geek in the shorts. Dip! Helloooo?”

Jeesh. Where did that fantasy come from? Dipper stammered, trying to get the image out of his mind, his cheeks flushed. “Uh…Hi. H-has something happened?”

“You mean apart from your Uncle tearing into me? No, not really.”

“Okay, good-“

“Well, that and my _Dad_ being the one who summoned the ghost and trying to destroy the Diner so I’ll stay home for the rest of my life...” Pacifica continued, reeling off the sentence like it was another basic day in their lives.

Dipper paused. “Okay, so, we could have probably done with that bit _first_.”

“It’s just a theory I’m working on, okay? It’s not guaranteed-“

A voice piped in from in front of the TV. “Preston Northwest being a supervillain? That I can believe in!”

 _Man_ , Stan had a decent hearing aid.

Pacifica ran through everything she’d been told by her father, and her personal suspicions with the ghost coming out of nowhere and refusing to attack her. Her father was making a last ditch attempt at control.

A last ditch attempt that involved removing the Diner from the picture. Removing friends from the picture. Keeping it all as nothing more than the Northwests in their bizarre caricature of a happy family.

“Well, Grunkle Ford still has the ghost.” Dipper chewed his pencil as he spoke. “What else could your dad throw at us?”

“I… I don’t know.” Pacifica gulped. “I mean, if he had the other two journals…”

“Jeeeez.” Mabel sat down. “He could get those jerky unicorns on our case.”

Dipper sat down too, almost perfectly on cue to his sister. “Or Bill Cipher.”

Pacifica sat down next to him. “Or something… worse.”

Dipper looked at Pacifica and made no attempt to hide it, before moving a little closer. Pacifica looked at him and smiled, trying to relax a little.

“Is your father really that desperate to control you?”

“I mean, yeah. Probably. He’s not evil, he’s just a bit of a…well…”

“Control freak?” piped in Mabel, now head on the floor with her feet up in the air.

“I guess.”

It was a couple of moments before they turned round to a large, dark figure in the doorway. Stan stood behind them with a grin on his face, already dressed in a black catsuit with a balaclava. It wasn’t the most flattering look.

“Sounds to me like you kids need a break in!”


	13. The Break In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.
> 
> Yet, the dark history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest - and the re-appearance of Dipper Pines is providing a pretty powerful distraction, too.
> 
> In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"

“You want to _break in_ to my _house_?"

“You don’t want to be blamed for stealing from your pops, do ya?” Stan grinned, adjusting his catsuit.

“No, but… Mr. Pines, I have a key, you don’t need to break in anywhere!”

“I can make out with the books and you’re off the hook. Problem solved and you get off scot-free. Take it or leave it, Blondie.”

To say that Pacifica had reservations about staging a robbery would be an understatement. She had always assumed Stan Pines was a bit ‘cleaner’ than the days of his legal record being read live on television. 

Dipper and Mabel were more than used to the idea of Stan recommending a criminal option and weren’t above joining in with a scheme for the sheer fun of it. But, this time, it was Pacifica’s home. It had to be her call, and they’d more than understand if a robbery was breaking a little bit _too much_ of a rebellion against her pa’s control this time around.

Pacifica tapped her lip as she considered what was worse – the idea of Stan Pines intruding on her home, or the idea of her father conjuring up ghosts until she agreed to stay home – or break it off with the Pines family entirely. She tried her best not to be snobby about the idea, but it was _her home_. And as much as she loved the Pines family, _Stan Pines_ was basically the most blatant grifter in the Western territories and was probably wearing far too little underneath that catsuit.

“What’s the chance of you getting caught?” She asked, finally.

Stan had an air of confidence about him. “About the same chance as Mabel quitting soda.”

Mabel looked up from her sixth can of the evening with a slightly glazed expression.

“…Fine. You've got a deal, Mr. Pines.”

“Great! Do you know if there’s anything else a poor old man can take as an act of charity?”

“Don’t push your luck.” Came the wry response. “Let’s get this out of the way.”

Pacifica grabbed Dipper’s hand and pulled him along to the golf cart. If this was what they were doing tonight, She was damned well sitting next to the dork. They could grant her that at least.

The newer, smaller Northwest house was still lit when the golf cart was parked up a few hundred feet away. It wasn't a particularly long journey, but darkness was falling. Pacifica only hoped it wasn't some sort of omen.

“Now kids, the trick to a criminal act is waiting until you’re sure you won’t get caught,” Stan spoke about the entire process like it was riding a bicycle, or playing tennis. This entire situation was utterly ridiculous.

Dipper rolled his eyes. "What… what about this is _criminal_ , Grunkle Stan? You’re going in with a key, to take things that technically belong to us. Stop calling it criminal. This isn’t criminal.”

“This is pretty criminal.” Mabel butted in. “Just like us breaking into the Diner.”

Dipper rubbed his temples and sighed. “Mabel… your acceptance of this is not helping.”

Pacifica smirked and tapped Dipper on the nose. That was beginning to become a regular thing. “You’re all criminals and I’m fine with that. Can we get this over with?”

Stan watched through the window with binoculars, waiting for the Northwests to turn off the lights and give them free reign.

“Yeesh. I did _not_ expect Priscilla Northwest to wear that to bed- Oh no. _NO!_ ” He threw the binoculars down and crushed them underfoot in horror before holding his stomach. “We- we’ll give it a few hours, kids.”

“What are we supposed to do here for a few hours?”

“Hopefully get rid of the damned trauma.” Stan mumbled, staring off into the horizon. That image may never leave him.

“Grunkle Stan, this is serious!”

“I’m _being_ serious! Someone get the can of gasoline and a match, huh?”

Pacifica didn’t know what Grunkle Stan saw and had no interest in enquiring. She also wasn’t expecting to be sat in a golf cart with Dipper Pines one warm summer night before going to rob her parent’s house.

Mabel had brought some yarn and needles along and had Waddles on her lap, completely oblivious to the real impact this was having on Pacifica’s relationship with her parents. “Hey, Pacifica, what happened to that Llama sweater I knitted you?”

“Huh?” Pacifica looked up from her phone. “Oh. I-I still have it.”

“Awww!”

“Shut up! I don’t like… wear it or anything.”

“You still wear it, don’t you?”

“…It looks good on me, okay?”

“I’ll knit us criminal sweaters to go with the collection!” Mabel grinned, immediately starting the new project. Pacifica just shrugged and looked back to the other twin, sat shotgun next to his uncle.

Dipper was daydreaming a few more things than he really cared to admit.

_How does one admit being in love with someone like Pacifica Northwest? And what happens afterwards?_

“Dipper. Dipper! Earth to the dork in the hat!”

_Where can a summer-only relationship go? What if she really did love him back and love him just as much? What if she didn’t and he had got the completely wrong signals?_

“Dipper! Dork! Nerd!”

_What if they got caught and she never spoke to him again? What if she made him wear that awful suit again? What if the rest of the town heard? What if Wendy got angry with him because all this time she had secretly loved him t-_

Pacifica punched him in the arm, snapping him out of it.

“S-Sorry, Paz.” He stuttered. He felt so nervous.

“Jeez, what is your problem, Dip? And it’s _Pacifica_.”

“He does that sometimes, Paz.” Mabel said, barely even looking up from her black yarn. “Ignore it.”

“ _Pacifica_.”

Stan turned round in his usual inopportune time.“Huh? What’s that, Paz?”

“I am not above slapping all of you! Now, will you hurry up and _break into my house_?!”

The four of them went quiet.

“Jeez, we really are all criminals, aren’t we?”

The break in was nothing to Stan. He’d never done this with keys and authorisation, of course, but it was still nothing compared to his rap sheet. He had even considered picking the lock just out of principle.

He also had _plenty_ of reason to hate Preston and Priscilla ( _especially after what he’d seen through those binoculars_ ) so, in his mind, was fully justified in taking a candlestick or something with him – but hey, the kids were taking it seriously. So should he. He slipped in through the door quietly and made his way through the hallway, where the glowing embers of the fireplace in the living room still cast a dim, orange light across a selection of fine mahogany furniture, holding perfect crystal glassware from Paris, 

_Yeesh. This is them living poor? Is that a carpet made from dollar bills?_

The books sat next to Preston’s armchair – a far taller, more handsome piece of furniture than Stan had ever dreamed of owning, made of ebony wood with a red, velvet upholstery that more readily resembled a coffin. A single dreg of prime whiskey sat alongside them in a shot glass. Stan figured he could at least have _that_ and sipped it with all of the elegance he gave to a can of Pitt cola, before picking up the books in his other hand and tossing the shot glass into the fire idly.

It smashed just as he realised he was meant to be quiet.

“Stop right there. Take the mask off.” Preston Northwest stood at the top of the stairs, shotgun in hand. “You don’t know what you’re messing with there, stranger.”

“And you don’t know who yer messing with, slick.” Stan retorted. “Get outta here and leave the crappy décor to Cribs, huh?”

“Pines. I might have known.”

Infamy, it seems, came with a cost when trying to be anonymous. “Son of a … smoke bomb!”

Stan ran out as fast as he could and threw himself into the golf cart, with his smokescreen providing a splash of momentary cover. “Preston is packing way more than he was in that bedroom, kids! Get us out of here!”

Preston gripped his weapon firmly as he stood at the doorway, watching the golf cart careening down the road.

“Woohooo!” Mabel squealed, fists up in the air, as the golf cart screeched around the corners of the road that led to the Mystery Shack. “Criminals!”

“Mabel, we are _not_ criminals!” Dipper snapped.

“You’re a criminal, I’m a criminal, we’re all criminals, bro-bro! I’m gonna make us all striped sweaters and eyemasks!”

Pacifica was somewhat at a loss to think that Stan Pines had just run from her _father with a shotgun_ to steal back some books – because it’s what they needed. He didn’t hold it against them, he didn’t have any harsh words, he just… robbed a house for his family.

Or, more’s to the point, his family’s friend.

That was maybe a bit of a skewed moral, but in the heat of the moment, Pacifica was having a little bit too much fun to care.

She just rested her head on Dipper’s shoulder and smiled, closing her eyes.

Dipper stared in a wild eyed panic – but cautiously – oh so cautiously – put an arm around her.

Mabel and Stan both had broad smiles on their faces and a sly wink for the blushing, ever-nervous, panicking, clammy Pines twin.


	14. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.
> 
> Yet, the dark history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest - and the re-appearance of Dipper Pines is providing a pretty powerful distraction, too.
> 
> In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"

****

Pacifica Northwest had woken up in the Mystery Shack in more than a bit of a panic. The adrenaline had long worn off, giving way to a nasty bout of reality. She had just been involved in _stealing something_ from her Dad. She had just involved _her friends_ in stealing something from her Dad.

It was 9AM, and she felt sick. She had gone against her parents’ authority before, sure. It was fun at the time, sure. It felt amazing last night, sure – but what would happen now? What if her Dad knew? What if he got the police involved?

Alright, that wasn’t much of a concern when it comes to Gravity Falls, admittedly, but he wouldn’t let this one lie. This was a step too far.

But…then, her dad summoning a _ghost_ to make her _lose her job_. That was even more of a step too far. Wasn’t it?

She sat in a near foetal position on Dipper’s bed, trying to process what she had actually done.

“Hey, you’re awake.” Dipper smiled and sat down.

“Has my Dad been here yet?” She replied, urgently.

“What’s your Dad going to do, Pacifica? They aren’t _his_ journals, and the town knows what they’re capable of, and _nobody_ trusts him-aaand I just realised you meant doing something about _you_.”

Pacifica twisted her lip and nodded as Dipper buried his face in his hands. “I’m an idiot. Sorry.”

“You are an idiot, but you don’t have to be sorry. It’s my mess you’re dealing with.”

It was then that Ford entered the room; a silver mirror – still holding a grotesque, green apparition – and the two other journals in his hands. His face was as straight and difficult to judge as ever, his brow furrowed and his sharp, square jaw almost motionless.

Pacifica briefly wondered if Dipper would look like Stanford when he was older. Then wondered why it was any of her business what Dipper would look like when he was older. _Ford wasn’t bad looking_ , she ventured. _Nope, nope, get it out of your mind._

“Ms. Northwest, I owe you an apology.”. Ford plopped the mirror down on the bed and glanced at the now silent, squirming, twisted creature within. “I’ve been communicating with your Diner ghost.”

“Communicating?” Dipper perked up. “How? We only heard him speak a single verse. Can he talk?”

“No, Dipper, he can’t. He’s scripted.” Ford explained. “Shoddy workmanship, summoning a ghost with only one curse for speech.”

“Then how do you talk to him?”

“Quite simple, really." Ford grinned, his dark eyes brightening at a chance to explain his genius. "I used a series of Christmas fairy lights to mark out the entirety of morse code. It was then a case of the ghost using electrical discharge to-“

Dipper raised an eyebrow. “That sounds really convoluted.”

“Oh, it was. I doubt anyone would ever try to use it again.”

“...Grunkle Ford, when did you last sleep?”

“The night before we caught this fellow!” Ford beamed, his eye giving a slight twitch. Dipper decided to pay it no heed. “This spirit has been brought from purgatory – forced into work, Dipper. The only incantation for that is in Journal two. Which I see Stan has... retrieved.”

Pacifica watched the ghost curiously. She hadn’t really gotten a good look at the mirror trick in the past. Now she was genuinely becoming interested in the life of the Pines, she couldn’t hide her fascination with the fact there was a living... _Sort of living_ spirit in there.

She tapped it gingerly and frowned. The thing didn’t seem so threatening while it was caught up in there. If anything it looked trapped. It looked sad. “Put to work?”

“When summoning a ghost it is, I’m afraid, quite easy for a more _unscrupulous_ character to enslave them.” Ford explained. “All the need is to know the location of their death; if the right incantation is used, the creature is forced to follow instructions, until the summoning figure grants it rest. This one was told to destroy the diner, and, most importantly, protect you. At least, as soon as a Pines entered the premises.”

Her eyes were wide open, staring up at Ford. “When you say hurt people...”

“Hard to say. It’s very possible your father just wanted us beaten up a bit. This poor creature isn’t evil. He’s a lost spirit, enslaved.” Ford smiled and held the mirror in his hands, watching the remorseful spectre as it sat within a glassy prison. “It’s your father’s way to send a message, I suppose. I’ve often said these things could do with Unions. The lack of workers rights for ghosts is unacceptable-”

“Dad’s sent a message, alright.” Pacifica sighed, holding her knees. “I’m not allowed my own life.”

“Some things are worth fighting for.” Stanford grinned. “And as it stands, it looks like you have the whole, extended Pines family ready to fight on your side. Me included.”

When the old man smiled, it seemed to change his entire face. A gruff, weary expression melted away into one of a natural kindliness. Similar to Stanley – hardly surprising, of course – but with far more determination and world experience to him.

Or off world experience.

“And, for now,” Ford continued, “we think it’s only prudent to let you stay here.”

Pacifica blinked. “My mom and dad won’t agree to that, Mr. Pines.”

“Probably not. But we can try, can’t we?” Beamed the explorer. “Besides, Dipper was quite insistent.”

Dipper looked away from the scene. Pacifica smiled and tried to hide the little flutter of excitement in her chest.

“Now, I’ve a spirit to put to rest. I’ll leave you kids alone.”

Pacifica looked at Dipper, gazing straight into his eyes. She wasn’t sure, but it felt like the only time she really had the nerve to properly look him in the eyes. Like, properly _look_ him in the eyes.

Dipper squirmed uncomfortably. He still wasn’t really sure what he was meant to do, here. A part of his frustrated teenage brain desperately wanted to just grab her and kiss her, holding her tightly like it was in the movies. He’d had the same thought about Wendy. A lot.

“Y’know Dipper, I never thought I’d say this, but...”

Yes! _Yes! here it comes-_

“... I really appreciate what you and Mabel have done for me.” Pacifica sighed.

 _Oh_.

“Yeah, well like... you deserve it, Pacifica.” Dipper replied. “You aren’t a bad person.”

“I was. I could still be.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not an amazing person either. I am who I am because of my family. Just like you.”

“I think you’re a good person, Dipper. I think you’re a great person.”

It was now Dipper’s turn to feel those butterflies in his stomach. Could this be it? Should he outstretch his arms, wrap them around Pacifica and embrace her-

“Mabel, will you get out of here?!”

Mabel was standing by the doorframe, her head bowing in, with a notepad in her hands. “Mabel is not here! I am the dateatron, writing up your perfect romantic confession!”

Pacifica laughed. “You freak, we aren’t even a romantic thing!”

Oh. **_Oh_**.

Dipper looked down and scratched his head, wondering if he’d been misreading every sign, every step of the way. Had he been that dumb? No, he was sure this time! He wasn’t wrong, he couldn’t be.

“At least, not until your brother works out what to do with me.” snarked the Platinum Blonde, tapping Dipper’s nose in her now familiar way, before making her way out of the room.

“Ooohhh!” Mabel grinned, catching a high five and running down the stairs with her new best pal, who had just teased her brother. This was golden!

Dipper stared.

What had just happened? What did that mean? Why was this shtick so complicated, and what did this situation expect of him?

He was so _jealous_ of Mabel. Mabel had no concerns about talking to the opposite sex. Mabel was quite capable of hooking up in less than a day. Sure, it was often a _disaster_ , but she at least had the confidence.

Pacifica, meanwhile, was excited. Like, really excited. She was thrilled. She had just _flirted_. She had just _flirted_ with Dipper Pines. She felt like her confidence had just flooded back.

Then she froze.

Oh no.

She wanted to _keep_ flirting with Dipper Pines.

She blushed when she _thought_ of Dipper Pines.

She was in love with Dipper Pines. When did that happen?

She tried to silence the thought as she walked into the lounge to a... Strange scene. Ford and Stan were assembling a hardy arsenal of brass knuckles, a switch knife and one of Ford’s scarily large collection of guns.

Pacifica watched as they suited up. “What are you doing?”

Stan jumped and clutched his chest. “Jeez, kid. How are you so good at sneaking around?”

“Trained as a gymnast.” Pacifica said casually, picking up one of the heavy knuckle dusters. “What are you doing?”

Stan grabbed them from her hand. “We’re visiting your pops.”

Pacifica raised an eyebrow. “Why do you need _these_ to visit my Dad...?”

Stan rubbed his head and crouched to her. “Listen, Kid, I’m not comfortable letting you go back to a home like that, alright? We’re going to have a talk.”

“You’re going to... Beat him up?” She ventured.

“Na.” Stan replied. “We’re going to give him a bit of a fright – see if we can convince him to let you stay here.”

Pacifica stared. “You really want me to stay...like _stay here_?”

Stan gave a broad smile and tussled Pacifica’s hair. “We like you, kid. We’ll do what we can to protect ya, huh?”

Pacifica started tearing up. Was this really it? Home?

“Hey, hey, hey, come on, sweets.” Stan opened his arms. “We’re here for you—Oof!”

The Northwest girl ran to him, into a tight, squeezing hug - and sniffled. “D-don’t hurt him though, okay...?”

“Na, blondie. The only thing we’ll hurt is his ego.” Stan grinned, patting Pacifica’s back before standing back up. “Now uh... look, don’t go like... Y’know, fooling around with Dippy too much, huh? We’ll be back soon.”

He tussled her hair again, then turned to the door patted Stanford on the back. “Let’s roll, sixer.”

Pacifica wiped her eyes and smiled as the two walked out of the shack.

Stan Pines would have probably been a _great_ Dad.

Pacifica kind of wished he was hers, even if he smelled a bit of smoke, wore cheap, ill fitting suits, and swore like a sailor.

Stan wiped his eyes – out of the view of his brother – as they walked down the shack’s lot. “She’s a sweet kid.”

“Mm.” Ford pretended not to notice Stan’s somewhat fragile emotions. “So, you aren’t going to beat him, Stanley?”

“I’ll flatten the jerk if I have to. Nobody messes with my family, and if she’s joining it, he’ll have the silver spoon knocked out of his mouth. ”

Stanford grinned. He wasn’t surprised.

“I’ll raid his booze, too.” Stan snorted. “Guy doesn’t deserve nice things.”

Stanley adjusted his brass knuckles as he did something he wasn’t used to even considering.

_Returning to the scene of the crime._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written during the Covid-19 Lockdown of 2020.
> 
> With huge thanks to my fiancee, Kyo, and Alex Hirsch for one of the most fascinating animated series I've ever encountered.
> 
> If you like my writing, you might (emphasis on might) enjoy my five star rated Alternate History novel, The Great London Conspiracy.  
> www.thegreatconspiracy.co.uk
> 
> I do also have a ko-fi:  
> https://ko-fi.com/jamooney
> 
> And a Deviantart-mabob:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/jamooneyart


	15. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.
> 
> Yet, the dark history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest - and the re-appearance of Dipper Pines is providing a pretty powerful distraction, too.
> 
> In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"

****

**_Preston Northwest puffed on a cigar as he sat in his armchair, ruminating over a combination of self congratulation and anger.  
_ **

To say he was angry would be an understatement. He was furious. He had spent a long time searching for those damned journals. He had seen them during the Weirdmageddon crisis and knew exactly how powerful the things were. If he could only find the third...

Bill Cipher was not unknown to him. He had welcomed him. Even if he had shown less... Appreciation for his offer of collaboration than he expected. In a town full of worthless, backwards people such as this, he was confident that those journals could bring power back to his hands.

And now they had been taken from him. All for the love of his precious daughter. The daughter he had treated like a queen.

And why? He had done nothing wrong. At least, not _here_. He was sure of it. His daughter works in a Diner, he finds a way to remove it from the picture.

It was enterprising, damn it. Not some sort of atrocity.

He was used to getting his way and getting it with style. That these people, these _poor_ people who thought they could take from him. Take his money, take his journals, take his daughter, and infest his own flesh and blood with these twisted ideals of just getting by?

Unacceptable. A Northwest doesn’t _get by_. A Northwest _wins_ and _flattens_ the competition.

He briefly touched his nose. A sort of phantom fear regarding the orifices on his face staying in place. His own personal trauma of the big event.

He knew damned well more than the town thought. He knew damned well more than the Pines thought.

Oh yes, he knew Stan Pines wasn’t the chap that visited him in 1981. He had it all figured out. They think they can pull the wool over his eyes? Not over a Northwest. He had been waiting for Bill Cipher. He had been waiting for all of this nonsense and he had been waiting for that little twerp, Dipper Pines, to upend his family.

He knew it was coming and he wasn’t going to sit idly by. If he had a way to get rid of a child, he was not above the idea. That boy had interfered quite enough.

He bristled and threw the rest of his cigar in the fireplace, as there came a knock on the door.

Preston brushed back his hair and adjusted his cuffs before he opened the door.

The Pines wanted a fight? He’d get to it like a gentleman.

“Ah, look, my little cat burglar has returned.” He greeted them, dripping with sarcasm. “How nice. Returned my belongings, I hope. That drip of alcohol was worth more than your pancreas would get on the black market!”

Stan was not the best at keeping cool, especially when confronted. “I’ll have your **_head_** on the black market, you little creep! Let me show you how we did it in Glass Shards before we put **_you_** up on auction!”

Stanford held his brother’s fist back and tried to defuse what he could. “Now, Mr. Northwest. Please. We’d like to talk about the powers you’re dealing with. Those journals are a matter of _security_.”

“You really think I’m unaware what those things were?” Preston sneered, stepping toe to toe with Stanford and glaring. “My man, I went through some of the most prestigious schooling this country has to offer. I’m sure Backupsmore taught you how to pick your nose with those extra fingers, but it didn’t teach you to keep it out of my business!”

Stanford maintained as much of a calm composure as he could. “Those journals were never yours to take, Preston. But then, for your family, everything is fair game, I suppose. No, I’m afraid you having those journals is quite out of the question.”

“Then give me my daughter.” Preston snapped.

“Your daughter is with us through her own choice.” Ford replied. “We’re all aware of your actions.”

“And I’ve no remorse.” Preston’s hands clenched. “I do what I have to do, to keep Pacifica safe.”

Stan balked. “By teaching her to be leech like you? That kid is too good for you. She’s happier at the Shack than any Manor or stately home!”

“Happier while breaking the law.” Scoffed Preston. “How _proud_ you must be, Pines.”

“If you want something to train and keep looking pretty, get a dog. For now, Pacifica stays where she’s happy. You got that, slick?” Stan retorted, jabbing Preston firmly in the chest.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me, you bloated old ship wreck!”

Stan clenched his fist. “Or what? You want a piece of me? You wanna get nuts? C’mon, Let’s get nuts, beanpole!”

Stanford and Priscilla stood on the sidelines and rubbed their temples as the two men ran at each other.

...This was going about as well as it could be expected. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written during the Covid-19 Lockdown of 2020.
> 
> With huge thanks to my fiancee, Kyo, and Alex Hirsch for one of the most fascinating animated series I've ever encountered.
> 
> If you like my writing, you might (emphasis on might) enjoy my five star rated Alternate History novel, The Great London Conspiracy.  
> www.thegreatconspiracy.co.uk
> 
> I do also have a ko-fi:  
> https://ko-fi.com/jamooney
> 
> And a Deviantart-mabob:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/jamooneyart


	16. Meanwhile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.
> 
> Yet, the dark history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest - and the re-appearance of Dipper Pines is providing a pretty powerful distraction, too.
> 
> In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"

****

Back at the shack, the sun was beating down hard – as was Dipper’s tired, confused head.

“Hey dude. You kiss her yet?”

Dipper nearly choked on his soda and glared up at the redhead standing behind her. “Wendy! Shh!”

“Just a question, man.” Wendy chuckled. “What’s the deal? You can’t just stare from a distance. Talk to her.”

Dipper squirmed as he sat on the Mystery Shack’s porch, watching as Mabel and Pacifica took photographs of Waddles in his ever growing summer fashion collection. It was sleepover night again, and the only real worry for the kids was how to occupy the day.

Well, that wasn’t the _only_ worry for Dipper.

“I can’t.” Dipper sighed.

Wendy was already beginning to count on her fingers. “She’s cute, she’s your age, she likes you...”

“I mean, I seriously can’t. She’s _way_ out of my lea-oh no.”

“...She makes great coffee, She’s brave, She’s smart...”

“Wendy! Quiet! She’s coming this way!”

“She’s close to you, She’s basically living here, she stares at you a lot...”

“Wendy, shut up! Please!”

“I’m just sayin’, man, if you made the first move, Pacifica would be putty in your hands. If you have the hots for the chick, grab her and tell her."

Wendy paused with a broad grin.

"Oh hi, Paz.” Wendy clicked her tongue, winked and walked away, giving Dipper a pat on his lumberjack hat.

Pacifica stood there knowingly, with a hand on her hip, and giggled. “Was Wendy just giving you relationship tips? Tips from _your crush_ on how to move on from her?”  
She adjusted her hair and gave a sly grin. “I mean, jeez, Dip – why can’t you just do the common sense thing and kiss me? As long as you watch where you’re grabbing.”

Dipper was a deep shade of crimson, rather taken aback by Pacifica’s burst of confidence. “Heh, W-why would I do that? We’re just friends – right?”

“Oh sure. Just friends.” She chuckled. “How many times have you held hands with your friends? Do you hold hands with Soos?”

Dipper just stammered. “I like you, Paz, but I don’t know if I’m really ready to-“

“Heh, me neither. Wouldn’t it be fun to find out?” She budged closer to him and smirked.

He blinked, a deep red flashing up his cheeks.

“I like you, Dipper. You’re cute. But it’s not very gentlemanly to expect me to make the first move.” Pacifica made a show of looking at her nails, resting her head against him. “Let’s face it, I’m _still_ a Northwest. I _still_ expect you to do things for me.”

Dipper was just about to speak when the two Grunkles arrived – with Stanley suitably bruised up and Stanford fittingly exasperated.

“Evening kids.” Stanley grinned, squinting through a black eye. “How’s tricks?”

“Mr. Pines?” What happened?”

“Your Pops came at me with a golf club, but he’s agreed to let you stay, toots. And given me a bottle of whiskey.” Stan paused, then broke into a wry smile. “Did I interrupt something?”

Dipper, if anything, was glad to be interrupted by Pacifica hugging the old man as tight as she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written during the Covid-19 Lockdown of 2020.
> 
> With huge thanks to my fiancee, Kyo, and Alex Hirsch for one of the most fascinating animated series I've ever encountered.
> 
> If you like my writing, you might (emphasis on might) enjoy my five star rated Alternate History novel, The Great London Conspiracy.  
> www.thegreatconspiracy.co.uk
> 
> I do also have a ko-fi:  
> https://ko-fi.com/jamooney
> 
> And a Deviantart-mabob:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/jamooneyart


	17. Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.
> 
> Yet, the dark history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest - and the re-appearance of Dipper Pines is providing a pretty powerful distraction, too.
> 
> In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"

It was the next morning when Grunkle Stan insisted on Dipper coming with them for a chat – with Stan dropping off the evidence from their big break-in down the bottomless pit.

The knuckles, the balaclava, Preston’s newly emptied wallet, the bell… Come to think of it, Stan wasn’t sure if Preston had even noticed he’d been pickpocketed in the middle of the fist fight.

Not his problem, he reasoned.

It was still early and fresh – the girls had been through another sleepover and hadn’t yet awoken to take Candy off of the ceiling – their friend, not the gummi koalas they had glued up there - so there wasn’t any chance of them being interrupted. It was just Dipper and his Grunkles, having a slightly uncomfortable talk about ground rules that would be required if Pacifica was going to be living in the same house as them.

Dipper wasn’t comfortable with any of the talk. He was still feeling more awkward than ever about how close things had gotten yesterday, and the insinuations of there being more to come made him feel sweaty. And awkward. It was bad enough that _Wendy_ of all people had given one of the biggest pushes yet. Dipper wasn’t confident or social enough to deal with these things.

“Y’know, Dip, your Gramps, Shermie, he was every bit as awkward and noodly as you are, at your age.” Stan smiled as he reminisced, looking up at the sky. “He ended up with a rich girl too.”

“Grandma was rich?”

“Sorta. I mean, we grew up in a Pawn Shop, kid.” Stan chuckled. “A lot of folks were richer than we were. How many families in Jersey do _you know_ with the whole white picket fence deal? Shermie did well for himself. Thought the world of you two.” He crouched down and looked Dipper up and down. “You look a bit like him, Y’know. He’d be proud of how smart you’ve gotten.”

Stanford smiled. “And of your morals. You’ve really made a difference to the town and its people, Dipper.”

“And, frankly, kid,” Stan continued, “I think Blondie needs you. And Mabel. Helps to get her life on track this summer, y’know?”

Dipper glanced back at the shack. “..And after summer?”

“Who knows. We’ll deal with it when we get there. We’re Pineses...ses. Pines? Pineses. Forward planning isn’t our strong point. For now, just look after her, Dip.” Stan grinned, patting his nephew’s shoulder.

“Well do our bit too, of course.” Ford continued. “A bit of training for monster hunts here and there, she could do some work for Soos...”

Dipper sighed. “I think what she’d really like is the diner back.”

“Heh. Well we can’t quite afford to rebuild that place, slick.”

Stanford paused as the penny suddenly dropped. “But we know someone who _can_ afford it.”

McGucket’s Hootenanny Hut had an open door policy, these days. Quite a change for the town that once never saw the inside of the Great Mansion. It had become a tourist attraction in its own right, visitors flocking to hear tell of the building’s dark past, and investigate all of that fine, fine lumber.

There, in the centre of the lounge, Fiddleford sat, strumming away at his banjo, glasses on his face, beard trimmed and with shoes, not to mention a particularly nice designer shirt and slacks. Sure, the shirt was still an utterly hideous Hawaiian number, but beggars can’t be choosers.

Not that Fiddleford had to beg for anything. Not anymore. The world was his Oyster.

The old Northwest Manor was no less grand – but had lost its air of pomp and providence, now feeling more welcoming and warm, with staff on hand and people happily visiting its grand rooms and structures.

The brilliant inventor looked up from his instrument and smiled. “Howdy, Ford! Stan! That guy I once tried to eat!”

“Yo, Fiddlebro!” Soos tipped his hat. “These are some nice digs.”

“If I had any more digs I’d be able to start a quarry!” hollered the chirpy millionaire, standing to shake hands firmly with the trio. “What can I do for you?”

“Well,” smiled Ford, “We have a business proposition for you, Fiddleford.”

“Business?” Fiddleford’s face dropped. “Fellers, why would I want more business? I’ve too much money. Why, the fourteenth bedroom of this place is full of Cauliflower Patch Kid Dolls. I don’t even like the damned things!”  
His eyes stared off into the distance. “...But I have to protect the world somehow.”

Stanford blinked. He decided to forgo that story for another time. “Oh no, Fiddleford, you see, that’s the thing. We think this proposal will _lose_ you money.”

“Lose me money?” Fiddleford scratched his head. “Well, I mean – I don’t want to make a bad investment. Met this guy called Iger last Christmas, and he takes like six months to reply to my messages. Who’s got the time? Nobody takes me seriously as is.”

“You remember Greasy’s?” Ford offered.

“Still banned from the place.”

“Not if you invest in it.”

Fiddleford raised an eyebrow. “Free breakfasts?”

“Every day. Bacon, eggs-“

“And oh boy, those pancakes dude.” Soos grinned. “Best in the state.”

McGucket rubbed his chin. “I’m listening.”

“We could use it to advertise your banjo lessons,” Ford winked. “Could name the coffee machine after you...”

“That’s a pretty big honour, dude.” Soos put in.

“And you could fill it with some of the clutter you’ve built up.” Stan offered. “Folks go nuts for crap on the walls these, days. Could make it a concept place.

“I do have a lot of clown paintings...” Fiddleford sighed. “Temporary hobby, I guess.”

Stan’s eyes widened as he gave a hasty reply. “They won’t fit in a Diner. Best give those to us to sort out.”

“Do we have a deal, Fiddleford?” Ford held his old friend's shoulder.

“How much do you need, Ford? I’m getting Tate a pony for his birthday. Don’t want to splash out too much, y’know?”

Ford winced. “Well... You had better take a seat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written during the Covid-19 Lockdown of 2020.
> 
> With huge thanks to my fiancee, Kyo, and Alex Hirsch for one of the most fascinating animated series I've ever encountered.
> 
> If you like my writing, you might (emphasis on might) enjoy my five star rated Alternate History novel, The Great London Conspiracy.  
> www.thegreatconspiracy.co.uk
> 
> I do also have a ko-fi:  
> https://ko-fi.com/jamooney
> 
> And a Deviantart-mabob:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/jamooneyart


	18. Fin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the next summer after the events of Weirdmageddon, and things are surprisingly familiar in Gravity Falls. The Grunkles are back in town after months of adventuring, and Dipper Pines is beginning to realise that being a teenager doesn't provide all of the answers.
> 
> Yet, the dark history of Greasy's Diner is beginning to plague the mind of their youngest waitress, Pacifica Northwest - and the re-appearance of Dipper Pines is providing a pretty powerful distraction, too.
> 
> In this continuation of Alex Hirsch's acclaimed series, dive into another crazy summer in the world of Gravity Falls - and the runaway pairing that fans are calling "Okay!"

****

Mabel and Pacifica woke up about three hours later than usual, their hair a mess and the twins’ room covered in pizza. Dipper was glad to have missed out on it. The two girls were reminiscing on what they’d been up to for most of the day, with Mabel’s relentless teasing continuously evoking laughter and red cheeks. The two of them barely registered the fact both of the Grunkles were away.

They didn’t even notice the Mystery Shack was closed and that both Soos and Melody had left them to their own devices.

What they _did_ notice was Dipper being surprisingly excited for the 4PM news report, and made a point of shoving Pacifica into the armchair to watch it.

“He-hey! What’s gotten into you, Dip? You _better_ have washed your hands before touching my shirt!”

“Watch. This is going to be really interesting.”

_And in other news, Toby Determined voiced his plans to begin a boudoir photography studio in Gravity Falls, advertising the service with his own shots in the following presentation. Viewer discretion is advised. The following images may not be suitable for the weak of heart, mind, or those with a sincere wish to maintain their innocence, but we need to fill in the broadcast time somehow._

Pacifica and Mabel stared at Dipper.

“Not that! Not that! That _was not_ what I meant!”

_And in other **other** news, Greasy’s Diner has started reconstruction due to a generous grant provided by local town inventor, Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, who paid the cost in cash to proprietor, Lazy Susan, this afternoon. Reportedly McGucket found the money required down the side of his armchair during a meeting with Stanley and Stanford Pines, twin adventurers._

_The diner on the site will be reconstructed in an almost exact replica in order to preserve the town’s image and prevent the cost of printing new postcards, according to Mayor Cutebiker, who arrived at the ground-cutting ceremony only to realise there wasn’t any foundations, negating the requirement of ground cutting in the first place._

_The new Diner shall be sponsored by famed local attraction, The Mystery Shack, thanks to a sponsorship provided by proprietor Stan Pines and the attraction’s beloved Mr. Mystery, Jesus “Soos” Ramirez. The site will also include a memorial plaque for the victims of the Great 1883 Train Crash that took place at that very location._

_Reportedly, Preston Northwest, disgraced Estate owner of Gravity Falls, has given Lazy Susan complete control of the land required by the Diner free of charge, scrapping initial plans to take back the plot. He was not available for comment._

_In other, other, other news, the person responsible for writing my teleprompter is due to be fired after writing the explicit message that just appeared on my screen-_

_Clck._

Pacifica blinked.

Dipper grinned. “Huh? _Huh_? Like... Again, without the whole Toby Determined... thing. Pretty sweet, right?”

A smile crept along Pacifica’s face as she looked at Dipper. Without warning, the Northwest grabbed his vest, pulled him close and locked their lips together, throwing her arms around his waist.

The only sound other than Dipper’s murmur of surprise was Mabel’s camera clicking repeatedly, until her finger got tired.

Pacifica smiled, tapping his nose and holding his bright, red cheek in her hand, gazing straight into his eyes.

“Pretty sweet.”

Mabel promptly ran around the Shack screaming at the top of her voice, while Dipper just sat there, no less shell-shocked than if a bomb had just gone off in front of him.

Awkward and sweaty. That was Dipper Pines. Who had just got his first kiss.

( _Apart from Mermando!! – Mabel.)_

The Diner, all in all, didn’t take very long to rebuild. Marilyn was a pretty strong redwood and was still in one piece from the ordeal, and – well, the railroad wagon had managed to survive falling from a railroad bridge in the past, so a few spooks wasn’t quite enough to smash it to bits. It was the internals that needed work, and, with the Corduroys providing their craftsmanship, that wasn’t really much of a difficult job. Manly Dan wanted his breakfast back.

The whole town got together for the reopening only a week or two later. Greasy’s Diner was no less – or more – glamorous than it had been. It was scrappy, it was weird and it was a part of their home.

The opening ceremony was a pretty grand affair, complete with a ribbon cutting, a short set from DJ Soos and some balloons. Not bad at all for the weird little pimple of Oregon.

Pacifica swept down her uniform nervously and adjusted her hair as the crowd bustled outside, the Diner filling with smells of freshly brewed coffee and gently frying bacon.

“Do I look okay?”

“You look beautiful, Pacifica.” Gushed the older woman as she pinched Pacifica’s cheek. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather open us back up.”

Pacifica beamed up at Lazy Susan, proudly wearing the “Trainee Manager” badge on her shirt.

“Now what are you waiting for? Go out and cut the riiibboonnn!”

Pacifica hesitated. She looked through the window and gulped – then walked out of the door quietly, a giant pair of golden scissors in her hand. She briefly wondered if people were going to laugh at her. A Northwest. A Northwest opening a cheap diner. A Northwest being the _face_ of opening a cheap diner.

Then, people cheered for her. The crowd clapped.

Up front, there was the Pines family - And, practically leaning over the barrier, applauding within an inch of his life – there was Dipper Pines.

He was sweaty, he was awkward, and he was hers.

The Pines family was weird, slightly criminal and crooked. But they were her family now. And they were _applauding_ her. They were _proud_ of her. And they _**cared** _about her.

It was, all in all, shaping up to be a pretty sweet summer.

In the back, she could swear she spotted her mom and dad. Seeing where she had gotten to with the support of her new home.

Preston and Priscilla Northwest clapped - then walked away.

If you ever take a trip to Gravity Falls, Oregon, try and explore a little. If you keep an eye out, by the side of the newly rebuilt Greasy’s Diner, you’ll find small plaque commemorating the Great Train Crash of 1883. Legend has it, if you place a silver mirror there overnight, writing will appear on it by the next day:

**_Peace at Last._ **

**Author's Note:**

> Written during the Covid-19 Lockdown of 2020. 
> 
> With huge thanks to my fiancee, Kyo, and Alex Hirsch for one of the most fascinating animated series I've ever encountered. 
> 
> If you like my writing, you might (emphasis on might) enjoy my five star rated Alternate History novel, The Great London Conspiracy.  
> www.thegreatconspiracy.co.uk
> 
> I do also have a ko-fi:  
> https://ko-fi.com/jamooney
> 
> And a Deviantart-mabob:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/jamooneyart


End file.
